


I Only Ever Want You

by itsmiz



Series: Stories Between the Sheets [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Ass Play, BDSM, Barebacking, Bottom Louis, Bottom Zayn, Butt Plugs, Chastity Device, Cock Cages, Come Sharing, Comeplay, Coming Untouched, Daddy Kink, Dark Harry, Deepthroating, Dom Harry, Dom/sub, Double Dildo, Edging, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Face-Sitting, Feminization, Group Sex, Jealous Harry, Kink Negotiation, Kinky, Lapdance, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, Little bit of humiliation kink, M/M, Mild Feminization, Multiple Orgasms, OT4, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Paddling, Porn With Plot, Recreational Drug Use, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Snowballing, Spanking, Strip Tease, Sub Louis, Subdrop, Subspace, Top Harry, Top Liam, Vibrators, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-01-25 18:33:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 180,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1658297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmiz/pseuds/itsmiz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis and Harry's relationship goes through a series of changes while Liam and Zayn discover new things about themselves, as well.</p><p>Or:  Louis & Harry and Liam & Zayn begin to have sex in front of each other and a lot of kink-discovery results from that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work is a part of a series and may make more sense if the first part is read first. I tried to make it free-standing, though. Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis accidentally discovers a new kink and bed, and Harry struggles to suppress his jealousy in order to please his boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags that Apply: Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Anal Fingering, Oral Sex, Barebacking, Group Sex, Multiple Orgasms

The first time it happened, it was happily accidental and completely unplanned.

The band were all sharing a hotel room together—well, everyone except poor Niall who was still recovering from his knee surgery—because they were traveling across the country for various appearances and performances.  Liam and Zayn appeared to be dozing off on their bed, and Harry was on the opposite bed with Louis watching the muted television so as not to disturb them.

Louis felt jittery.  He’d been waiting for Liam and Zayn to _just go to sleep already_ for the longest time so he could finally hop on Harry like he’d been wanting to all day.  Who cared if the other boys were right next to them?  From the light of the television screen, Louis noticed that they had finally seemed to have gone to sleep, and he turned to Harry.

“Just turn it up,” Louis whined, motioning to the television.  He hated having to read the stupid subtitles.  Plus it was just distracting Harry from Louis, and Louis wanted his attention.  “Or off, I don’t care.”

Harry yawned and reached for the remote on the bedside table.  “I think I’m about to turn in, anyway.”

 _Excellent._   Louis rose from the bed with the pretense of going for a wee, but he was really about to shuffle through all the little bottles the hotel left out since he’d forgotten an important part of his master plan.  To the side of the sink were heaps of lotions, shampoos, and gels, and Louis scanned them all, trying to find something he could use for what he had in mind.

He had to carefully read the labels on all of the little massage oils he had found because he didn’t want to make _that_ disastrous mistake again— _ouch._   Louis knocked over two bottles that said “Not for Use as a Personal Lubricant” and inspected another safe-looking container.  He decided it would work, and he hid it in his palm and padded back to the bed, straining his eyes to see in the now-dim room.

Louis lifted the covers and snuggled in beside a half-naked Harry.  Their arms touched, but it looked like Harry was drifting to sleep already and therefore didn’t move to spoon with Louis like he’d usually do.  Louis frowned.  His fingers trailed along Harry’s forearm, trying to get his attention, but Harry just groaned and groggily moved his arm away from Louis’ touch.

Louis’ frown deepened into a pout.  He nestled his body closer to Harry and began kissing along his upper arm, moving his lips all the way up to Harry’s shoulder.  When Harry didn’t respond whatsoever, Louis squirmed and whispered as quietly as he could, “ _Harry_.”

Harry groaned in exhaustion, keeping his eyes shut.  He slurred something that didn’t make sense.

“Wake _up_ ,” Louis hummed, softly shaking Harry’s bicep.

Harry groaned again.  “What is it, boo?”

“ _Kiss me._ ”

“You horny or somethin’?” Harry asked.  Louis confirmed Harry’s question by making a small noise, and Harry opened an eye.  “ _Babe_ , it’s two in the morning.”

As if that mattered.  “I want you inside me,” Louis said, biting the side of his lip at his bluntness.

“Jesus, Lou, they’re right there,” Harry whispered back, referring to Liam and Zayn who Louis was _positive_ were sleeping like the dead.  He had literally _just_ walked by them and saw them asleep.  Even if Louis were to jump up and down and scream on the bed, they weren’t going to wake up—especially not Zayn.  Louis was sure of it.

“ _Please_ , Harry,” Louis begged, knowing if he used his breathy voice Harry would eventually cave.  “ _Please_ …”

“Louis, they’re—right—there,” Harry replied again before kissing Louis’ cheek in apology.  “Just get some sleep.”

Harry mumbled something else about just waiting until the morning, something about the shower, but Louis didn’t want to hear it.  He huffed and shuffled his body away from Harry dramatically, looking to his left to see if his reaction had affected Harry at all.

It hadn’t; Harry just unconsciously smacked his lips and settled his head deeper onto his pillow, his curls spreading about on his face.

Louis sulked before he realized he still had the bottle of massage oil he’d gotten from the bathroom by his leg.  Reaching for it in smug excitement, he quietly and messily spread it all over his hand and dick and began gently pulling himself to complete hardness, right there beside an oblivious Harry.

Louis sighed in contentment as he pleasured himself, maybe breathing a little louder than necessary.  As Louis expected, it didn’t take too long for Harry to notice Louis’ noises and the tiny movements happening under the sheets, and Louis was glad.

“ _Louis_ ,” Harry hissed, fumbling around for Louis’ wrist under the covers, “what the hell?”

At the moment, Louis didn’t _care_ that Harry’s number-one rule was for Louis not to touch himself without permission.  If Harry was going to deny him sex, then Louis’d just have to take matters into his own hands.  Louis smirked at his pun, _and_ at the fact that it was about to give him exactly what he wanted.

“Told you I was horny, Harry,” Louis simply responded, meeting Harry’s eyes and letting a high-pitched little noise fall from his lips.  Louis kept touching himself until Harry reached over and literally stopped him from doing so, and Louis’ eyes glinted in the darkness while taking in his boyfriend’s face.

With his hand now firmly stilling Louis’ wrist, Harry quickly rolled Louis to his side and pulled down his boxers (“I’ll show you horny,” Harry muttered, feeling suddenly aroused himself).  Louis and Harry were now facing Liam and Zayn’s bed, and though he knew he should be watching Louis, Harry instead watched the area in front of him, checking to see if Liam and Zayn had stirred from the noise.

They hadn’t, so Harry immediately lowered his fingers to Louis’ arsehole, cursing when he immediately realized his idea wasn’t going to work.

“Shit, we haven’t got—”

Louis grasped for the bottle of massage oil he had been using on his dick and shoved it in Harry’s hand.  Just then, the automated air-conditioning unit turned on, and Harry was thankful for the noise as he opened the bottle and went to work on fingering Louis.

“… _the hell you think you were doing_ ,” Harry muttered, shoving his index finger into Louis rhythmically, eventually working his way up to two.  Louis didn’t respond— _couldn’t_ —and just squeezed his fists into tight balls as he moved his arse back to fuck himself harder on what Harry was offering.   _Fuck_ , he’d been waiting _all day_ for this, and thank the heavens above his plan had worked because Harry’s fingers just felt _so damn good_ inside him that he couldn’t even think of anything else besides being stretched and full and taken.

Harry, despite being sleepy a mere minute ago, surprisingly found it a bit thrilling to be doing this right next to his two sleeping mates.  Because Louis was breathing strained and heavily against the pillow, Harry knew Louis thought so, too.  He lowered his head behind Louis’ ear and as quietly as he could, he whispered, “You like that?  Knowing they’re right there?  Knowing they could wake up any second?”  With a particularly hard jab with his fingers, he added, “See me get you all worked up?”

Louis just nodded against the pillow and backed up his hips against Harry’s hand, pushing Harry’s thick fingers even deeper inside him and making them stretch and crook in all the right places.  He wanted to whine when Harry took his fingers out, but he knew what was coming next— _yesss_ —so he remained silent and wiggled his bum as he waited for Harry to lather himself up with the slick oil.

As Harry shifted himself to match up to Louis’ entrance, he threatened in Louis’ ear, “Do not make a sound or I stop.”

Louis nodded again and, as Harry inched inside him, he pushed the sheet down his body to expose his nipples and stomach.  Even in the air-conditioned room, Louis was becoming hot, and he ran the pads of his fingers along the tingly skin of his chest.  His eyes slipped closed while Harry began moving inside him, not nearly as fast as he normally would, but at a satisfying pace nonetheless.  Regardless, Louis impatiently tried to speed up the pace, and Harry scolded him by putting a painfully-strong hand on Louis’ hip to keep him still.

“ _Patience, love,_ ” he taunted.  Louis fidgeted in Harry’s hold, petulant that Harry could talk but he couldn’t.

Harry eventually did give Louis what he wanted; he always just had to rile Louis up a bit first.  Harry dropped his head to the pillow they were sharing, bit at Louis’ hair, and began quickly snapping his hips into his boyfriend, loving how fucking _tight_ he was.  Louis loudly gasped at the force with which he was now being fucked, feeling utterly dirty that he and Harry were doing this in the middle of the night next to his unsuspecting friends, that he was being forced to be quiet through it all.

Louis didn't realize it would be as big of a turn-on as it was, and he struggled not to moan.  As he consciously squeezed his lips together to keep his noises from escaping, he opened his eyes, desperately looked straight ahead, and noticed with complete shock that someone in the other bed was watching him.

Zayn was awake.

Zayn was awake and _staring at him_.  Louis’ mouth fell open.

Harry had strategically chosen this position so that it would somewhat resemble spooning, their normal sleeping position, but as Louis’ body was steadily moving to the rhythm of Harry’s thrusts, it had to have been obvious what was going on.  All Louis could do was avert his eyes from Zayn, ultimately deciding to squeeze them shut again and hoping Zayn would eventually do the same.  It wasn’t as if the boys hadn’t ever walked in on Harry and Louis fucking before—it had actually happened quite a few times—so Louis hoped that Zayn would just roll over and pretend he hadn’t seen anything.

When he inevitably reopened his eyes and glanced at the other bed again, however, Louis saw that Zayn hadn’t shut his eyes _at all_ and, if anything, was just staring more intently at Louis.  Through Louis’ haze of arousal, he looked back at Zayn, seeing something abnormal there, even in the shadows of the room.  Could it be…was that...  _lust_ Louis saw in Zayn’s eyes?

Louis noticed that the other bed was slightly moving too, and his mouth dropped even more as Harry's hips continued their onslaught.  Was Zayn fucking _tossing off_ to this?   _Was he…was he really touching himself?_ Louis didn’t even _care_ at the moment, just breathed faster at knowing he and Harry were being viewed having sex, and his hand fell to his cock under the blanket to relieve the pressure there.  Harry noticed—of _course_ —but for once didn’t move Louis’ hand, just painfully bit the back of his neck instead.  With Harry’s mouth latched onto his neck, hotly breathing and sucking there, Louis continued to rub the tip of his cock, staring at Zayn do the same.  

_Oh, my God, this was mad.  And so, so provocative._

Zayn’s eyes were slightly squinted as he kept gazing at Louis, and Louis saw Zayn’s mouth fall open as he clutched the pillow under his head with both hands.  Louis knew then that Zayn _couldn’t_ be touching himself if he had both of his hands free… Then Zayn’s _body_ began moving, began being forcefully jutted forward, and Louis gasped in the realization of what was happening.   _Liam and Zayn were… they were doing the exact same thing that he and Harry were doing. In the exact same position._

Both Zayn and Louis were now obviously _aware_ of what they were doing—aware that they were watching each other _do_ what they were doing—and it only served to make the moment hotter.  Holy fucking shit.  Louis was sure his eyes were owl-like while staring incredulously at Zayn, pupils huge and wide in the dark room.

Harry removed his hand from Louis’ hip and snaked around to grip his cock, smacking away Louis’ own hand.  As he began pumping Louis to the rhythm of each drive of his hips, Louis wasn’t able to hold his noises in any longer.  Harry finally was touching him, taking and filling up his arse _and_ enveloping his hand around his cock--something he rarely did--and Liam and Zayn were _fucking.  Right beside his bed._

“Oh, my fucking God, Harry,” he whispered around his hand, for he’d now begun chewing on the knuckles of his right hand to contain some of his pleasure.

“ _Shh_ ,” Harry shushed, abruptly squeezing Louis’ dick and stopping the movement of his hips.

Liam had already heard, though—the fucking aircon had just automatically switched off—and Louis saw his head peek up from behind Zayn, his eyes wide at seeing Louis awake.

Zayn immediately reached behind him and clutched Liam’s neck, pulling him in for a snog before he could say anything about what was happening, or, God forbid, stop.  Louis intently watched them kiss and writhed against Harry, willing him to move again.

Zayn let a whimper escape from his throat then, and Harry, thinking it was Louis, slapped his hand on Louis’ mouth.

“Louis, I swear to God,” Harry hissed.

Louis wanted Harry to know what he was seeing, though, so he did all he _could_ do and stuck his tongue out to frantically lick Harry’s palm while slightly whining.  Harry immediately took his hand off Louis’ mouth with a curious look on his face, and he propped himself up a bit to look at Louis in confusion.  Louis just looked to his right, and when Harry followed his eyes, he swallowed at the shock of what was before him.

Liam and Zayn were in the same position that he and Louis were in right now, Liam visible behind Zayn, Zayn reaching back to card his fingers through Liam’s hair, both of them sneaking little glances across the room in between hot, open-mouthed kisses.   _Both of them thrashing against one another._

“Oh, God,” Harry said upon taking in what was happening.  His dick twitched inside Louis at the knowledge that Liam and Zayn were fucking, too, possibly getting off from watching him and Louis, but he didn’t know how he felt about Louis being on display for _them_ to enjoy, too.  He questioningly turned back to Louis.

“I’m so close,” Louis begged, guessing that Harry was concerned with his comfort level.  “Don’t stop, _please_ , Harry, don’t stop.”

 _God_.  Harry’s head dropped, his mouth finding the spot where Louis’ shoulder and neck met, and he looked at the other bed.  The room _was_ dark, and Liam and Zayn couldn’t really _see_ much… Harry knew they certainly couldn’t see very much of _Louis_ , at least, especially with the sheet covering his lower-half.  He lowered his eyes back to Louis’ face.

“Come _on_ ,” Louis whined again.

Harry growled and began slightly moving again, deciding it would be cruel to both of them if he just stopped now.  He snuck a quick glance at the other bed for the very last time, satisfied when he didn’t see Liam and Zayn ogle Louis, and his thrusts grew tougher and faster upon vaguely sensing how rough they were now being with each other.

“ _God_ , Liam, go harder, go harder,” Zayn hoarsely whispered.

After hearing what was obviously Liam taking Zayn’s orders to heart, Harry clutched Louis’ cock again and stared at the side of Louis’ face while he jerked him off.  As he wildly shoved his cock in and out of Louis’ arse, Louis stared straight ahead.  Harry smirked at the little facial changes he saw on Louis’ face at being such a voyeur.  Holy _hell_ , this was exhilarating.   _Mad_ , but exhilarating.

“Gonna _come_ , Liam,” they heard Zayn whisper.  Louis was sure he was fucking drooling, and he dropped his hand to match Harry’s vicelike grip on his own cock, desperately helping himself along, moving his tight fist up and down on top of Harry’s hand while vigilantly watching the other couple move against each other.

“ _Shit_ ,” Harry whispered, and he began roughly humping Louis now, apparently not holding anything back anymore.  The two beds squeaked together in the small room as both couples frantically pursued release, and Harry suddenly removed his hand from Louis, loudly slapped him on the arse, and moved Louis’ own hand back to his cock for him to do the work himself.

The movement had rustled the sheets a bit, and Harry turned his attention from Louis’ face to Louis’ hand now, mesmerized at how urgently it was already moving up and down his erection.  He whispered nonstop into Louis’ ear, lost in the moment— _look how fucking naughty you are, baby, watching them like that, yeah, make yourself come, so fucking sexy…_

Louis was still being relatively quiet—he just panted heavily and listened to Harry’s deep voice in his ear—but he moaned loudly after witnessing Zayn’s beautiful face contort in ecstasy.  Liam’s mouth turned and covered Zayn’s entirely, and Zayn whimpered against Liam’s lips, his muffled moans reverberating around the room as he desperately clutched at Liam’s hair.

Knowing he was fucking _seeing Zayn have an orgasm_ , Louis’ own climax suddenly washed over him, and he turned his head into the pillow and loudly moaned out Harry’s name as his arsehole clenched around Harry’s cock and he covered his own fingers with jets of his warm cum.  While letting the last strings of whines leave his mouth, Louis vaguely felt a gush of liquid fill up his arse as Harry painfully bit his neck and grunted against the skin there.

“Fuck,” Harry shakily said after a long while, removing himself from Louis.

Louis chuckled breathlessly, rolled over, and carelessly wiped his hand off on the side of the bed.  He stared at the ceiling for a bit before closing his eyes and smiling in contentedness, his left hand absentmindedly touching Harry.

 _Fuck_ was right.  Louis heavily regretted not packing condoms, but still…despite the wet spot quickly forming beneath his bum, that had _so_ been worth it.  He didn’t care to glance at the other bed anymore, for the drowsiness that always hit him after an orgasm was making him nod off already.

Meanwhile, Harry lay quietly for a bit, resting his heart and wondering who the hell would be the inevitable first person to get up and go to the bathroom.

It was Liam, and after he did what he had to do and crawled back into bed with Zayn, Harry got up and returned with a wet washcloth for Louis.  After intimately cleaning off his sleepy boyfriend under the protection of the duvet, Harry whispered, “Lou, will you switch places with me, babe?  I hate sleeping on this side.”

 

* * *

 

When it happened the second time, it wasn’t necessarily by accident anymore.

No one had said anything about the first incident, though, just acted like everything was normal—and they were so close that honestly, what _wasn’t_ normal by now?—and now, in another city, in another hotel, the noises started up once again after the lights were off...

...And _again_ in the next city.

All the boys silently brushed their teeth in front of the bathroom mirror once they were done working for the day, and nobody even bothered with the facade of watching telly this time like they did the time before, just jumped half-naked right into their respective beds and began enthusiastically snogging on top of the sheets.

Louis lay on his back, and his skin itched with the eagerness for Harry to take off what was left of his clothes.  Harry grinned as he crawled forward on the mattress, predatorily positioning himself atop Louis’ small frame.  The summer was doing wonders to Louis--making his skin darkly tan, turning his hair soft and light, causing his eyes to radiate.

And Harry looked fucking _sexy_ , his hair getting longer and falling in his face, his eyes dark and greedy as he demanded Louis’ attention by licking his tongue deeply inside his mouth.  Louis loved it when Harry got in these dark moods of his.   Of course, he had no clue what had caused it so suddenly, but _God_ , it was hot.  Louis was responsive, squirming and whining at the slow pace Harry forced upon him, and Harry regularly bit Louis’ lip while rutting against his boxers to tease.

“Feels so good already,” Louis whispered, trailing his hands along Harry's obliques.  Harry just pushed his hips in further.

Liam’s hair had gotten longer, too, and lately he’d even grown facial hair that Zayn absolutely loved to feel against his skin.  Liam was currently dragging his scruffy cheek along Zayn’s chest, tickling his way along the skin there until he found a nipple to latch onto.  Already, he dropped a hand to the tent in Zayn’s pants and began stroking.

Louis always thought _he_ could be loud, but Zayn was definitely a close contender when he didn’t feel the need to hold back.  And as everyone grew sort of comfortable with this _thing_ they had going on—this “ _let’s have sex in the same room_ ” thing—nobody really _did_ feel the need to hold back noises anymore.  Everybody’s tones joined together in some filthy cacophony, and they hadn’t even really started yet.  Louis wasn’t sure if he was more turned on from the _sounds_ of sex or the actual _watching_ part because both were hot as shit.  Both sent tingles of electricity deep in his tummy.  And now tonight, with the corner lamp on for the very first time, everyone had a clear view of one another, and it was bloody _thrilling,_ like watching porn in real life.

While kissing Harry, Louis opened his eyes and looked aside as Liam and Zayn fully undressed each other.  “Want you to fuck me, Liam,” Zayn was heard whining.  When Louis diverted his eyes again, he saw Harry’s eyes open, too, his mouth still attached to Louis’.  Louis looked up at him with lust-blown pupils—“ _Want you to fuck me, too,” he mumbled_ —and Harry backed away, silently gesturing for Louis to raise his bum so he could slide his pants down.

Once they both were naked, Harry spread Louis’ legs open and nestled himself in between them, his grin fading slightly when Louis again looked over at the other bed and not at him.

Louis noticed that Liam and Zayn were in the same position that he and Harry were in _again_ , with Zayn’s legs widely spread open around Liam’s strong stomach and chest.  Liam wasted no time in covering his fingers in lube, and Louis could easily see Liam touch Zayn underneath his balls.  Zayn looked over at Louis with a happy, blissed-out look on his face as Liam began fingering him.

“I’m still here, you know,” Harry said deeply after several moments.  “Forget about me?”

Louis shook his head quickly and looked back at Harry like he’d been caught doing something bad. “Er…no…Just…am I—can I not watch?”

Harry hid his face in Louis’ neck, licking and nibbling.  He struggled with how to answer Louis’ question.  Of course he loved making Louis happy, and watching the other couple _obviously_ made Louis happy—shit, even just listening to them turned Harry on—but Harry didn’t know why he felt like telling Louis, “ _No_ , don’t watch them, watch _me,_ look at _me, look at me._ ”

Of course he’d never say that.  He _loved_ finding out new kinks of Louis’, loved figuring out every little part of him.  And judging by the hardness of Louis' cock against Harry's, this was _definitely_ a huge turn-on for him.  Harry could never deny him that.

So he just found Louis’ ear and whispered, “Course you can,” and dropped a saliva-wetted finger between their bodies to crassly fuck Louis with, trying to regain the brunt of Louis’ attention.

So he was feeling a bit more possessive than usual.  He’d get over it.

Harry eventually grabbed the nearby lube and began properly opening Louis up, rolling to the side of him to hide the view of Louis’ genitals from the other bed.  He took his time, as always, not bothering to care when he heard what must have been Liam fucking Zayn _already_.  Harry had learned that they didn’t take their time teasing one another like Harry did to Louis; they were more quick with each another, passionate, desperate, needy from the start.  Harry liked to gradually work Louis up to that point, and often it took a long time.

But this wasn’t a competition, and Harry knew what he was doing by slowly opening Louis with his fingers.  When Harry’s soft prods turned into actual finger-fucking, when he saw that lovely desperation cover Louis’ face, when Louis’ hips began rolling upward, then he knew Louis was ready.  He always knew best.

Harry threw the thin bed sheet over himself as he settled in between Louis’ legs again, and his slippery cock pushed forward until he felt the heat and tightness of Louis completely surround him.   _His._  As he was being penetrated, Louis’ hooded eyes looked over at Zayn, moaning as both Harry began moving inside him _and_ as he witnessed Zayn quickly turning into a sweaty, ruined pile of boy underneath Liam.

“Fuck me, _fuck_ me,” Zayn moaned, sticking his fingertips into Liam’s shoulders and clutching, squeezing. “Give me it, Liam, come _on_ …”

Louis noted that Zayn's hair got softer when he was having sex, when he was sweating.  It was all fringe and fluff, and it was quite pretty.

Harry roughly moved Louis’ face to look back at him, and Harry stole Louis’ mouth in a snog as he began tearing into his arse.  Louis whined inside his mouth at the sudden onslaught, and Harry stole _that,_ too, feeling powerfully dominating but not being able to express it with the other boys in the room.  He wanted to say the nastiest things about how wet and open Louis’ arse was for him, wanted to roughly pin Louis’ wrists together up above his head, wanted to put a gentle but firm hand around Louis’ throat until Louis cried from how good being fucked felt.

All Harry could do, though, was piston his hips forward and grab Louis’ face while he passionately kissed him, indulging in the feeling of Louis wrapping his limbs around his waist, truly tangling their bodies up.

“ _Jesus_ ,” Louis whispered up at Harry in shock.  He wasn’t used to Harry taking him this fast so early.  Harry normally gave him a bit more time to get used to the stretch, that lovely burn that occurred every time no matter how much preparation Louis had, solely because of how huge Harry was…but apparently Harry had a different agenda this time.

Liam was loudly fucking Zayn like there was no tomorrow, and even then, Zayn could be heard screaming, telling him to go faster and harder.  Harry acted like it was Louis saying it to _him,_ and he doubled the strength of his thrusts, making Louis moan even louder--as he should--against Harry’s lips.  Louis backed away from Harry’s mouth and turned his head to the other bed, feeling beautifully suffocated by Harry’s heat but desperately needing air.

 _Shit._  Whoever said missionary position couldn’t be sexy wasn’t doing it right.

With his feet, Louis pushed the covers down a bit, exposing Harry’s back to show Zayn and Liam exactly how tightly his legs were hooked around its expanse, wanting to show off Harry's body as well as his own.  He sneaked little glances over at the other bed and bit his lip when he saw Liam and Zayn do the same, but he noted how Harry’s eyes would never leave his face.

Once Harry noticed Louis sliding down the sheet to show himself off, he pulled the covers back up, looking down at Louis’ cock and then looking over at the other bed to see if Liam or Zayn had seen.   _They_ were both fully exposed, their bed sheet having fallen past Liam’s arse by now.  Zayn’s cock, wrapped in Liam’s hand, was long and clearly visible, and Liam’s own thickness could be seen backing in and out of Zayn’s body.

Harry sternly looked back at Louis.

Louis used his feet to kick the sheet down again, and Harry gave him a sharp look as he pulled them back up.  “ _Stop it_ , I don’t want them seeing so much of—”

“But _baby_ ,” Louis whined, “…it’s hot with the covers on.”

Louis was pushing his luck, and he knew it.  Harry’s face was firm, the expression he wore when he would normally turn Louis around and fuck him into the mattress while striking his arse, but Louis knew he wouldn’t dare do that with the lads right next to them.  He blinked innocently at Harry’s face.

“You think you’re being so clever,” Harry taunted, leaning down and kissing his way along Louis’ jaw to his ear.  He began making short, rough thrusts into Louis, physically moving him up the bed with each push, and he bit Louis’ earlobe.  “But I’m still in charge here,” he said almost inaudibly.

With each drive from Harry came new noises from Louis, sounds that started deep in his chest and traveled out of his throat.  “I just want them to see how good we look together,” Louis moaned brokenly, looking down between their bodies, at Harry’s lean torso grinding against the curves of Louis’ thighs and arse, Harry's stomach tickling his dick.  “How good you are at _fucking me_ …”

That appeared to make Harry forget anything else, and some alpha-male part of his brain took over at hearing Louis praise his skills in bed like that, at finally getting all of Louis’ attention back.  “Damn—fucking—right,” Harry grunted.  He placed his hands on the mattress on either side of Louis’ face to hold his body up easier, and he repeatedly rushed his hips in and out, truly forgetting about the bed sheet that had now fallen down to the back of his calves.

Louis gasped in surprise.  “ _God_ , you’re—you…so _good_ ,” he garbled.  “ _Know how to fuck_ …so good…”

Harry grinned, feeling cocky, and dropped his head to claim Louis’ mouth in the wettest, most uncoordinated kiss ever.  Neither of them cared, just blindly mushed their lips together, dragged their tongues along one another’s, sloppily sucked down each other’s grunts and groans.

Harry was hitting the spot inside Louis— _that_ spot—and the pleasure circled out from deep inside Louis’ arse to the bottom of his stomach and finally to his cock every time the tip of Harry’s dick prodded it.  Each time Harry thrust, Louis’ pleasure grew and grew and grew.  Harry’s body completely covered Louis’ smaller one, mixing sweat, and Louis couldn’t even look away from Harry now if he tried because he being held so tightly by Harry.  

He didn’t even _care_ to turn away from Harry at this point to see what Liam and Zayn were doing, feeling so much new arousal at just the fanatical expression on Harry’s face staring at his own— _into_ him, commanding his attention.  And Zayn’s and Liam’s moans alone were enough to add to the hotness of everything, were enough to push Louis _just_ to the brink of coming.

“ _Fuck, Harry,_ ” Louis cried out, clutching at Harry’s slippery skin in vain.

“Yeah?” Harry grunted.  “Like that?”

Louis nodded wildly.

“Like it when I fuck you— _hard_ —like that?”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Louis whimpered, his face contorted in pleasure.

“Gonna come for me?”

Again, Louis frantically nodded, whining low in his throat at hearing what he clearly recognized as Zayn coming across the room.  “Shit, shit, _shit_ ,” he moaned deeply, straining his neck to look down at his cock, feeling his balls about to tighten up and explode.

Harry had been moving like a madman, jack-rabbiting into Louis, drunk off the power of fucking him so fully.  He noticeably slowed his hips and asked Louis, “What if I stopped?”

Louis’ head lifted to look anxiously at Harry.  “No, no,” he shook his head.

“What if I said you couldn’t come?” Harry further taunted, slowly dragging his dick along Louis’ inner walls, not at all like the harsh thrusts from before.

“ _No_ ,” Louis said, sounding like a kid about to cry.  He desperately lifted his hips up to get Harry’s cock deep in his arse again, to make him touch his prostate once more.  He had to have some stimulation back.

“Stop it,” Harry hissed.  “ _I’ll_ make you come.”

Louis squeezed his eyes shut and whined, and after just a second had passed, he was gasping audibly when Harry redoubled the efforts of his hips.  Harry moved Louis to lie diagonally on the mattress now, Harry completely blocking Louis’ body from the other bed.  Louis obliviously let himself be man-handled, only thinking of the aching need deep inside him to come, of _Harry Harry Harry._

The sweat from Harry’s face dripped down as he curled his back and dropped his forehead onto Louis’, gasping in Louis’ breath and Louis gasping in Harry’s.  Louis’ legs were widely and carelessly open, his feet straight in the air, and Harry reached down and uncoordinatedly rubbed Louis’ cock.  Louis was so hard that there was hardly any give to the velvety skin there, and Louis immediately began shaking and moaning nonsense.

“ _God_ ,” Louis said throughout the tremors.  “Oh, my fucking… _Harry!  Ahh….ahh…_ ”

Almost instantly, Harry felt Louis’ arse contract against his dick, squeezing it in spasms, and Louis’ body tightened as he exploded all over his stomach.

Harry quickly removed himself from Louis and began frantically stroking until his cock burst in puddles of warmth all over Louis’ abdomen, meeting with Louis’ own cum and hypnotizing Harry at the sight.

Harry sat back on his hauches, regaining his breath and staring at the lovely image of a debauched, cum-covered Louis until reality came back to him.  He discreetly looked at the other bed where Liam and Zayn were already finished and cleaned up, lying on their backs and idly sharing their own afterglow while watching Harry and Louis.  They gave Harry a small smile from which Harry turned his body, ran his hands through his sweaty hair, and rose from the mattress.

Harry walked to the toilet completely nude, carelessly letting his wet, low-hanging dick swing in the sight of everyone.  Before he got up, however, he found the sheet that had fallen off the bed and draped it back on top of his boyfriend’s lower-half.

 

* * *

 

It became a _thing_ not long after that.

One evening, after a long week of not having sex beside each other (or at all) and _still_ not discussing it, Louis and Zayn were sat on Zayn and Liam’s bed while Skyping Niall.  They sat the laptop on both of their waists and casually held a conversation with their beloved, missed bandmate.

“Fucking rubbish,” Louis was saying.  “We’ll be home next week and that’s when you’ll be off bed-rest, yeah?”

Niall shrugged.  “We’ll see!” he said optimistically.

“You’re not missing too much, mate,” Zayn piped in.  “Just lots of fans asking about you.”

Louis interrupted, “But no worries—”

“—We’re getting all their phone numbers for you,” Zayn finished, laughing.

“Ooh, get in!” Niall laughed.  “Well, I’m gonna go…Don’t have too much fun without me,” Niall said, smiling but looking a little sad.

“We’ll try not to,” Louis replied.  Louis and Zayn shared a curious look, and Louis giggled.  “We miss you, mate.”

“Miss you, too,” he said immediately.  “Listen…I’ll let you know what the doctor says tomorrow.  Should be good news.  Maybe I’ll be back in London with everyone next week.”

“You better,” Zayn said, waving dramatically as Niall grinned and waved back.

Just as Zayn was closing the laptop, Liam walked into the hotel room with a bag full of food.

“Aw, you just missed Niall, babe,” Zayn said.

Liam placed the containers in the small refrigerator and snuggled his way in bed beside Zayn.  “He doing well?" Liam asked before casually regarding Louis with a wave.

Zayn allowed Liam to wrap his arm around him, and he snuggled in close. “Yeah.  Another doctor visit tomorrow and he should be in London with us next week.”

“Oh, excellent,” Liam said.

“Yep,” Zayn agreed, lifting his head to kiss Liam.  Liam was expecting just a welcome-back peck, but Zayn pushed his smoky tongue inside his mouth, and Liam’s heart began beating faster straightaway.  Liam knew what those kinds of kisses from Zayn meant, and it was _..._ a bit _odd..._  to snog with Louis just lounging on the bed but Harry nowhere in sight.

“Missed you,” Zayn whispered lowly, kissing his way along Liam’s jaw, nibbling at his gruff beard before latching onto a spot behind his ear and suckling.

Liam swallowed and looked awkwardly at Louis.  “J-just gone for a minute, love,” he replied to Zayn, trying to gently remove Zayn from his neck but failing.  Then Zayn dropped a hand to Liam’s trousers, finding and meeting the soft bulge just below his belt, and Liam gasped.

“ _Shit_ , baby,” Liam whispered, “what are you doing?”  Despite his surprise, he rutted his hips up to catch friction on Zayn’s palm.  After all, it had been a _dry,_ dry week...

Louis looked on and saw Liam become noticeable stiffer under Zayn’s hand, and Louis guiltily felt himself begin to stir in his own jeans, too.   _Shit_.

Though Louis was right next to them, he couldn’t hear what Zayn whispered in Liam’s ear next.  Liam just grunted and hummed, “Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” Zayn replied, nodding against Liam’s neck, still sucking and biting there.

Liam looked at Louis again, hands grabbing Zayn's hips.  “You can…you can watch by yourself, yeah?” Liam whispered, his voice already rough with arousal.

Louis panicked slightly, knowing immediately what they were on about.  He thought of Harry.  “Er…I don’t—“

And magically, _miraculously,_ Harry chose then  to enter the room with a few bags of clothes, stilling when he noticed everyone on the same bed.  He dropped his shopping by the wall after closing the door casually a moment later.  Too casually.

“Er, hey, babe,” Louis greeted, his face hot.

Harry assessed the scene: Liam and Zayn entwined, Zayn’s hand on Liam’s crotch, Louis sitting on the same bed next to them.  “Hey,” he replied, not finding the politeness in him to smile.  “What's everyone up to, then?”

“Erm, Zayn and I talked to Niall just now, says he misses you, by the way, and then Liam just came in with takeaway…and…and now they’re—we’re all here, just hanging out.”

“Ah, that what they call it these days?” Harry uttered quietly.

Zayn backed away from Liam's neck. “Hi, Harry!” he said cheekily, wiping his mouth from where it’d been slobbering on Liam’s skin.

Liam read something odd on Harry’s face, and he didn’t want Harry thinking he or Zayn were fooling around with Louis behind his back or something, so he immediately began fixing the situation.  “Literally, mate, I just got here and Zayn attacked me,” Liam explained.   He softly looked over to Zayn.   “Didn’t you, love?”

“True story.”

Harry made a noise like “ah” and sat on the edge of the bed.  The other bed.  His and Louis’ bed.

“You can…why don’t you come sit here?  With us?” Zayn asked.  “We’re already here,” he added with a suggestive smile.

Louis watched as Harry removed his watch and placed it on the nightstand in between the two beds.  Harry wordlessly stood and sat on the bed beside Louis, and Louis was afraid he’d angered Harry until Harry nestled himself on top of Louis, slotting his thigh in between Louis’.  Louis released the breath he was holding and smiled in relief.

"Hi, love," he said breathlessly to Harry.

Zayn watched as Harry lifted Louis’ shirt and began pressing kisses along Louis’ stomach, up to his chest, licking and sucking his tiny nipples.  Zayn happily smiled at Liam then and immediately straddled him, taking off his shirt in the process.

Harry kissed his way up to Louis’ neck and, inaudible to Liam and Zayn, whispered, “You were gonna do that without me here, hm?”

He felt Louis shake his head.  “No, course not,” Louis whispered back.  Harry painfully bit his neck— _great_ , right after the other marks had healed—and Louis said, _“Ah,_ I _swear_.”

Harry bit again, right along the vein running down the side of Louis' neck, and Louis melted into the mattress.  Harry's teeth, deceptively sweet-looking, were sharp...unforgiving... _heaven._  "I wasn't...I wouldn't--"

Harry kissed the area he'd just bruised, pecked his way to Louis' lips, and whispered, "Shh," on Louis' lips.  "I know."

Louis' hands framed Harry's face as he opened his mouth and let Harry's tongue mix flavors with his own.  Little smacking noises from both couples snogging were suddenly distinct in the room as things grew heated.  Liam and Zayn were rocking into one another already, and though Louis was uncomfortably stiff in his jeans, all Harry did was rhythmically press his leg down against the material. 

Louis's hands crept up Harry's shirt to hold onto his back, and finally, Harry’s arms wrapped around Louis’ waist, one hand traveling down into his jeans.

“How do you even fit into these things?” Harry muttered against Louis' lips, struggling to fit his fingers inside the jeans, only succeeding once Louis lifted his bum a bit.

“One of my many talents,” Louis responded into Harry's mouth, sighing when Harry’s dry fingers slid down his crack and pressed against his tiny hole.

"Mm," Harry mumbled.  "A feat alone you get them over that fat arse of yours..."

Harry applied firm pressure against Louis' arsehole, snaking his other hand around to rub on top of Louis’ jeans while kissing away any retort Louis was thinking of.  He inched his index finger just barely inside Louis, and Louis dropped his head to the pillow while Harry's finger gently pressed in and out.  

Louis didn't understand how fucking randy everyone could get so _quickly_ just by kissing and touching next to each other _\--shit,_ just a second ago he had been talking to Niall!--then he hazily saw that next to him, Liam had flipped Zayn over, and Liam was already taking off Zayn’s underwear, and it definitely made more sense to him.  They were so horny because they were _feeding_ off each other, feeding off just _being_ next to one another, seeing each other naked, enjoying one another, _pleasuring_ one another.  _Christ._

Louis wanted to be naked, too, but that was ultimately Harry's decision.  He tugged at his shirt to give Harry a hint, and Harry gave him one last peck before he removed his hands from Louis.  Instead of using his hands to undress Louis, however, Harry stuck his index finger in his mouth, the one he had just had in _Louis' arse_ , and looked down at Louis as he sucked it.

Oh, holy fucking shit.  

 _Or...ew?_  

" _Harry..."_

Harry just smirked and winked at Louis.  "Take your own clothes off.  Leave on your pants."

While Louis giddily obeyed, Harry did the same himself and matched his body with Louis' again once he was down to his boxer-briefs.  Underneath Louis' boxers, his cock was hard and resting high on his right thigh, and for once, Harry contemplated what to do next.  He wasn't sure about being _this_ close to Liam and Zayn while Louis was so scarcely dressed, so he didn't understand how he'd be okay with the situation once he took the pants _off..._

Harry looked over to Liam, feeling unsure for the first time since they’d begun this _thing_.  The couples were literally _right next_ to each other this time.  Seeing Liam softly licking at Zayn’s dick, his fingers somewhere underneath, gave Harry the confirmation that _okay,_ this was really happening.

 _It would be fine,_ he told himself.  Why was he feeling strangely doubtful _now_ of all times, anyway?  He could do this next to Liam and Zayn.  He could.  

After confirming it with Louis.

"You okay, hon?" he said quietly once Louis' legs wrapped around his waist.

"Yeah," Louis nodded, smiling widely.  "'Course."

 _'Course._  

Harry slightly shook his head at how far Louis had come from the boy who insisted on having sex half-clothed with the lights off to _this._   If _Louis_ could do this with no shame, no... _selfishness..._  then Harry just needed to let go of whatever hesitation he had and give Louis what he wanted.

It didn't mean Harry didn't catch it when Zayn stared at Louis' dick once it was freed of its constraint, didn't mean that he still felt minorly--okay, _majorly--_ possessive as he began caressing Louis all over in an effort to claim him as _his own_.

There was a well-placed bottle of lube in the middle of the bed that Liam'd been using on Zayn, and Harry gazed darkly at Louis while glazing his fingers with the liquid.  Harry’s left hand gave Louis’ cock long, soft strokes while two fingers of his right hand were busy inside Louis’ arse, slowly sucking up the heat there while petting around.

“I love fingering you,” Harry murmured, smiling down at Louis.  “One of the best things ever…”

Louis kept his eyes closed and muttered, “Love it, too...”

“I love it the most when I—“ Harry moved his left hand to press down on Louis’ stomach, his fingers crooking up inside Louis, “—do _this_ —“ Louis moaned, “—and get you all worked up--" another hard jab "--make you come from just my fingers."

Harry knew what he was touching the second he easily found it.  After painstaking research and probably a combined _day's_ worth of real-life searching, Harry was now _very_ familiar with Louis' prostate, and he routinely tore Louis to pieces with the lovely torture of stimulating it.

Zayn was moaning softly, his head lying slackly on the pillow.  Liam sucked him lazily, fingering him quicker to make up for it, and Zayn was in a comfortable state of pleasure.  He watched the muscles in Harry's forearm give and pull between Louis' legs as Harry fingered Louis.

"It's _\--god, I'm, yess_ , _Harry,"_ Louis moaned.  Loudly.  High-pitched.  Shameless.  Zayn wondered vaguely how Louis was fucking  _losing it already_  from just two fingers.

 _Yeah, say my name_ , Harry wanted to mutter, but he didn't.  He just moved his fingertips against Louis' prostate at a quicker pace, constantly vibrating them there, devoutly admiring every twist and turn of Louis' face as he rapidly became overtaken with bliss.

“You really take your sweet time with him, yeah?” Liam asked Harry, motioning to Louis with his head, one hand busy wiping off his mouth and the other one busy moving in and out of Zayn.

Harry had a million responses to that, but he just replied, “Always.”

Liam turned his attention back to his boyfriend.  He'd backed his mouth from Zayn but kept his fingers inside his arse, waiting for Harry and Louis to get started.  They were apparently _really_ into foreplay, though.

Which gave Liam a thought.  He looked wickedly at Zayn.  “Hmm…”

“ _Liam_ ,” Zayn whined as Liam shoved his two fingers in as deeply as he could, wiggling them around inside.

“Nope, love,” Liam smirked, “think I’m gonna tease you a bit, as well.”

Liam removed his two fingers and reentered Zayn's hole a moment later, this time with three fingers pressed tightly together.  Zayn hissed in a breath and squirmed, and Liam grinned.

Harry kept his fingers fully enveloped in Louis’ heat, still moving the tips of them against the hard little area inside that made Louis frantic with the pressure and need to come, and suddenly Zayn began matching Louis' frenzied whines.

“Liam,” Zayn gasped out, pinching his own nipples, “ _Liam_ , touch me, touch me.”  Holy shit, holy _shit--_ okay,  _now_ he understood how Louis was losing his shit over just being fingered.  Fingering normally wasn't like this for Zayn, this _...intense._   He and Liam normally did it just to prepare for Liam's cock, but now...this was somehow like Liam's cock.   _Better than Liam's cock._   _Now_ he felt like he was a tight knot about to snap, and it was so, so good.

Liam grunted and lowered a hand to Zayn’s leaking dick, and Louis watched with desire as Liam pumped Zayn’s cock, twisting his hand on each upstroke.  Harry rarely touched Louis’ dick when they fucked around; because Louis had the amazing talent of coming untouched, Harry loved getting him to that point.  But lately, at least around Liam and Zayn, Harry had been touching him more.   _A lot of the time_ , even.  Hell, he'd even had his hand on Louis for a minute just earlier...

_So maybe, just maybe…_

Louis looked up to Harry and made a noise, hoping Harry would do the same as Liam and give his cock some relief, and Harry, reading his mind, just shook his head.  Louis whined.  He imagined Zayn felt _unreal_ right now, and the thought worked him up even more.

Harry didn't want to touch Louis because part of him wanted to brag about how sexy Louis was, how _perfect_ he was, how he could come untouched and then fucking come again afterwards, just watch!…but the other part wanted to keep that knowledge just between him and Louis, wanted to touch his dick just to hide it from their eyes...

But it was too late to even consider anything else; Louis was too far gone.  And after seeing Louis’ infamous right-about-to-orgasm-face, Harry wouldn’t’ve been able to stop, anyway.  He did the only thing he could think of and lowered his mouth to Louis’ cock, one large palm splayed out on Louis’ abdomen and his fingers still wildly pulsating inside Louis’ arse.

When Louis came inside Harry’s mouth a second later, it was all “ _shiiiit,_ ” and “ _ohhh,_ ” and “ _yesss_ ” from Louis and “ _damn,_ ” and “ _holy shit_ ” and “ _wow_ ” from Liam and Zayn.

Harry proudly swallowed and wiped off his mouth before crawling back on top of Louis to sweetly kiss him.  Liam watched in awe... Kissing after oral was something he and Zayn never did.   _But,_ Liam had never made Zayn come from just fingering him, either…

After watching Harry and Louis from this close proximity, Liam vowed to do some things differently in the future.  He never realized how _hot_ Harry and Louis were together, how much he could learn from their chemistry… For now, though, Liam was satisfied at how loose he had made Zayn, how pliant and wrecked his body was underneath his own, and he removed his fingers and reached for the lube again, this time to pour all over his terribly hard cock.

“You ready, baby?” he whispered to Zayn, stroking himself.

Zayn bit his lip while watching Liam. “Oh, fuck, yes…”

When Liam was done lathering himself, he slid the bottle to Harry, and Harry wordlessly did the same.  

While Harry slicked himself up, Louis and Zayn lay side by side, giving each other little excited, blissful looks because they both couldn’t wait for what was about to happen.  It was the first time they would do this _beside each other_.  Zayn quietly wondered how Louis  _did it_ , how he could stand to have sex right after coming like that, but Louis looked just as horny now as he did before he came, so…

Harry was still a bit reluctant to proceed, but all it took was one look at Louis’ face to see how horny he still was, how much he greatly wanted this.

And who was Harry to deny Louis his cock?

Harry lifted Louis’ hips so he could meet his entrance, and Liam spread open Zayn’s legs, and they both breached their boyfriends at the same time, leaning their chests down atop them once inside.  Everybody moaned all at once, and Louis and Zayn’s noises echoed longer at the added pleasure of having their legs touch.

Liam and Harry began thrusting at the same time then, almost silently contesting with one another over who could fuck their boyfriend the best.  Harry started off a little slower than Liam, as usual, but Liam, knowing Zayn loved being fucked hard right from the start, already moved at a frantic pace, his hand simultaneously pumping Zayn’s cock.  Harry thought about matching Liam’s speed, but knowing how frustrated it got Louis to be fucked slowly at first, he smirked and decided to hold back.

Zayn and Louis whispered moans into the air, holding each other’s hands and squeezing tightly as their pleasure grew.

“I feel really good,” Louis whispered up at Harry, and Harry grunted.

"Sure--you're not--too sensitive?"

Louis' reply was a long, drawn-out moan.  "No, ugn, I'm okay--"

Harry reverently kissed Louis before backing up to sit on his haunches so he'd have a better angle to plow into him with.

His quickening pace made Louis’ cock move about, and Harry thought, _God, I wish I had a jock strap for him so no one could fucking see his dick_ , then he desperately tried to push those thoughts away because they made him feel like a jerk.  To console his inner thoughts, however, he held Louis’ cock in one large hand—not moving, just holding.  The way it made Louis' body jerk was worth it.

Louis couldn’t handle all of the sensations he was feeling—his cock sensitive and tingly, his arse full, his skin soft and electric against both Harry _and_ Zayn—and he thrashed his head about on the pillow underneath him before desperately looking over at Zayn.  Zayn was already looking at Louis, too, red-cheeked and sweaty, and he reached out a hand to the back of Louis’ neck, pulling him forward into a sloppy, frantic kiss to try to channel some of the pleasure Liam was giving him.

Louis was taken aback, and he backed up and gasped.  Afraid he was going to be in trouble for this later, he turned his eyes up to Harry with a questioning expression—one that all at once said “ _I didn’t do it, he did, am I going to be punished, can I do it again?_ ”—and without ever stopping his thrusting (though he wanted to), Harry looked to Liam.  Both of the boys minutely nodded at each other, and Harry turned his head back to Louis, nodding gently to show Louis that he could continue.

Zayn and Louis held each other’s faces in their small, soft hands, snogging and moaning into each other’s mouths as both of their boyfriends unrelentingly pounded into their holes, sweat leaking out of their every pore.   _Oh, my God..._

Seeing how gone Zayn was already, Liam picked up the pace of his hips and his hand, the slap of his balls on Zayn’s arse fucking sounding amazing— _feeling amazing_ , like Liam could do this all the fucking time, like he never wanted to leave Zayn’s body, like he _belonged_ there.

He shifted Zayn’s legs to rest on his shoulders and leaned his body down to get more of his cock into Zayn, driving into his arse with short and strong movements, groaning loudly each time.  He whispered something into Zayn’s ear while Zayn was kissing Louis, something that made Zayn’s head fall down to Louis’ shoulder instead, where he began sucking and licking aimlessly.

Watching another man like this with Louis was having some kind of effect on Harry, and he didn’t know what it was.  He'd given his permission, sure, but he still felt _...crazy._  All he knew was that he needed to fuck Louis harder, so he spread Louis’ legs wider, lifted his bum, and thrust forward into his arsehole while watching Louis restlessly mewl at the attention Zayn was giving his neck.  With Liam leaning forward on top of Zayn, and with Zayn practically curled up and hidden underneath him, both of them were unable to see even the tip of Louis’ cock anymore.

 _Good_ , Harry thought, and animalistic noises rattled from between his tightly-clenched teeth.  He stared at Louis’ gorgeous body, his skin fucking pulsating every time Harry impaled him, and he agonizingly willed Louis to come.

“Do it, baby,” Harry begged. “Want you to come again,” he desperately gritted, “and my cock’s gonna do it, gonna make you come, baby, nobody else, no one else, fucking, _fuck, come,_ ” he chanted on repeat, not even making any sense.

Louis no longer had any control of his limbs—could only lay there uselessly while Zayn mouthed at his skin and Harry muttered non-stop filth down at him.  Shit, it was too much.  Louis looked forward at Harry’s pelvis—wet from lube, wet from sweat—then looked down at his own body.  Harry was making Louis’ own body gyrate and shake, was making his cock flap against his thigh, was making him _come.  Again.  Already._

Louis gripped the bed sheets in one palm and Zayn’s arm in the other, shaking and squeezing and scratching in warning.  “Fuck, Harry, _fuck_!” he screamed, and Harry stared at Louis in awe, thinking of how he sounded just like a porn star and _fuck_ , the others shouldn't be able to hear him like that, shouldn’t be able to see him this fucking ruined…

But of course Zayn removed his mouth from Louis’ neck and longingly watched his face instead, seconds away from busting his own load himself.  Seeing Louis’ features screw up in pleasure for the second time, Zayn cried, “ _Liam_!” drawn-out and noisily as his body seized and his cum shot out on Liam’s hand, ropes of it spurting out directionless, smashing between his and Liam’s chests, Zayn's feet kicking about in the air.

Louis and Zayn looked at each other in shock before turning their attention back to their boyfriends.

“Shit,” Zayn uttered in drained contentment as he lowered his legs and felt Liam’s cum gush out of him. “That was good.  Fuck, that was good…”

Harry collapsed on top of Louis, refusing to exit his body just yet.  He needed Louis to feel _all_ of him for as long as possible, for his cum to stay locked inside for an eternity, claiming him. When Harry finally pulled out many long moments later, Louis winced.

“God fucking _damn_ , Haz, my arse _stays_ sore these days,” he whined half-heartedly.

Harry shouldn’t have been happy about that, but he was.

 

* * *

 

Harry and Louis were finally at their house again—their _home_ —and Harry wanted to have an actual conversation about the whole…Liam and Zayn thing.  They needed to talk about it.  It had been going on too long without any type of discussion.

Normally when Louis and Harry did new things in bed, Harry discussed it with Louis exhaustedly until he was convinced that everything was completely consensual on both ends.  It was abnormal for them to just jump into new things as they had done in the past few weeks, but Harry surmised that was just part of the thrill of it all.

Honestly, another reason Harry hadn't initiated a conversation was because he didn’t know how to process what he'd been feeling lately.  He knew he felt happy on one hand, glad to give in to what turned Louis (and himself) on, but on the other hand…well, he was just having a hard time dealing with everyone seeing Louis naked.

Just…how was he supposed to put that in words without upsetting Louis?  He lounged back on the sofa, trying to relax his body.

“Since we’re finally to ourselves, let’s chat, shall we?” Harry asked, going for casual but failing completely.

Louis raised his eyebrows in confused expectation, waiting for Harry to continue.  He knew this would be coming.  Oh, he _knew_ it.  He knew Harry had been acting reluctant lately.  Louis knew him too well.  Still, he feigned ignorance.  “And whatever about, dear Harold?”

Harry clarified, “About _you…_ and _me…_ and Liam…and Zayn.”

Louis averted his eyes and sighed, fidgeting anxiously on the side of the couch.  The slow way Harry said all of their names together told Louis that his unspoken suspicions had been correct; Harry wanted to end everything.

Louis could have predicted as much.  He gathered all the subtle differences in Harry, in and out of bed.  Holding onto him too tightly, like he was tense.  Never looking at the other couple and appearing almost _angry_ when Louis did, probably because the whole situation was just so weird that Harry preferred to block the other couple out.  That firm, heavy-set jaw that happened when Louis _knew_ Harry wanted to say something but was holding himself back. 

He’d just been humoring Louis this whole time.

Louis clenched his jaw.  He didn’t even have the right to be upset, though, _because who could blame Harry_ _for feeling grossed out_?  What kind of person would want their boyfriend to _enjoy_ another couple shagging beside them?  Weird is what it was.  Louis was just plain weird.   And now Harry was about to confirm it.  Harry didn’t want to keep doing what they’d been doing.  This was probably just one kink too many for him.  Especially because he’d fucking _kissed Zayn_ that one time.  Or Zayn kissed him—whatever.  It didn’t matter anymore.  He wanted to die.

“…And?” Louis asked, mentally preparing himself for Harry calling him out on being a freak and telling him that they’d have to put an end to what they’d been doing.

“Well…” Harry began slowly, finding Louis’ foot on the floor and rubbing his own against it.  He wasn’t sure how to put what he wanted to say into words, and he wasn’t trying to _shame_ Louis or anything, so he began lightly.  “What we do—what we’ve been doing—with them--It’s obviously something you _like_ …I mean, you enjoy it, it makes you happy…turns you on…”

Louis opened his mouth as if to speak but closed it quickly, unsure whether or not he should be defensive towards Harry.  He knew this was just Harry tying to be gracefully polite as always, but he wished Harry would just _spit it out_ already, just be _honest_ and call him out on his freakish ways, _dammit._  Louis’ instincts took over, so he shot up off the sofa and replied shortly, “Well, excuse me.  If you haven’t been okay with it then you should’ve—”

Harry gave a small sigh but still interrupted patiently, “Louis, sit back down.”  When Louis didn’t, just presented Harry with a view of his back, Harry said, “Please.  You…You must be taking what I said the wrong way.  This isn’t about me not being okay with it.”  Louis turned around but scowled, uncomfortable, and Harry requested again, “Love, just please sit back down.”

Louis slumped back onto the sofa.  “Yeah, I enjoy it,” he mumbled, crossing his arms.  “Thought that was obvious.  Thought you _enjoyed_ it, too.”

“I _do_.  I never said I didn’t,” Harry easily replied, smiling slightly to put Louis back at ease.  He gazed at Louis until his face had softened back to its regular, relaxed expression, until his arms uncrossed, until his hand found Harry’s.  “Baby, I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad,” Harry said, rubbing his thumb on the back of Louis’ hand.  “Sorry.  I just…I just didn’t—don’t—know how to start off.”

“Start off what?”

Harry frowned.  He hadn’t practiced this in his head, not really.  He didn’t know how to say what he wanted to say.  And _what_ was it that he wanted to say?

“You’ve got some kind of issue, haven’t you?” Louis said softly, sullen.  “You want to stop.”

“ _No_ ,” Harry said emphatically.  “I don’t want to stop.  And we don’t have to stop.  Unless that decision comes from you.  I…I just told you I see how much you enjoy it.  Obviously I don’t want to stop if you like it so much.”  He was quick to sheepishly add, “And I like it, too!  It’s…it’s hot.”

“… _But_?” Louis pushed after a moment of silence.

“I just…I…” Harry began slowly speaking but paused, trying to get his words right.  “I am having some… _concerns_.  Yeah.”

 _Clearly_ , Louis thought.  “Then…why haven’t you said anything?”

“Because they’re just now becoming concerns, I guess.  Like, I couldn’t figure it out earlier, but now that I’ve had some time to actually, like, process what I’m feeling, I want to talk about it.”

Louis interrupted, “We don’t even have to have this conversation, Harry.  Really.  We can just agree that I’m odd as fuck for liking it and we don’t have to ever do it again,” he said quickly, standing up again and beginning to walk away.  Harry grabbed his arm and pulled him back to the couch.

“Oh, no, you don’t.  We’re talking,” Harry said, now with finality.  “Baby, _relax_.  _Listen_.  You’re not odd at _all_ for liking it.  Hell, I like it, too,” he said quieter, “so what’s that make me?  What's that make Liam and Zayn?”

That slightly consoled Louis.  “Well, then, what’s the problem?” he still asked in a small voice.

Harry ran his fingers through his hair, deciding to just come out and say it.  “I’m…I’m…Honestly, I’m starting to get, like, ridiculously jealous.  And I don’t like it.”

Louis wanted to cry.  “You just said that you _do_ like it,” he rebutted.

“No, I do,” Harry said quickly, “I like… _it_ …I just don’t…I don’t like feeling that way...feeling jealous…”

Louis’ frown straightened, his eyes lighting up just a bit.  “Jealous over what?”

"Erm...jealous over you."

Jealous over _himself_?  "I don't completely...follow."

“Jealous over _everything_ , just about,” Harry said louder.  “Jealous that they’re _seeing_ you, _hearing_ you…jealous that _you’re_ seeing them, that you watch them while they’re shagging…”

“Well, that’s…kind of…the whole thing,” Louis said slowly, feeling confused and guilty.

“I know—I get it, I do.  And I’m fine with it.  Really,” Harry promised.  “I even—it even makes me hard, all of it.  Honest.  Watching you watch them…them being around while we’re together…I _do_ enjoy it, I do.  I… I just feel— _shit_ , this is hard to explain, it makes no sense—I mean, I just feel like I’m going mad sometimes.”

Louis had no clue what to say.  He fish-mouthed while watching Harry fidget with the hem of his shirt.  Louis wasn’t sure how to handle a Harry that didn’t exude self-confidence.  What did Harry have to be jealous about?  Harry should know by now that Louis loved him with every single _micro-gram of his being._

“Lou,” Harry finally said, imploringly meeting Louis’ eyes, “I guess it's just...I just…I need confirmation that you’re still into _me…_ and not just getting off because you’re watching _them_?  That I’m still, like… _enough_ for you?”  Harry’s eyes were wide and open in the most genuine display of love Louis'd ever witnessed.

Louis looked incredulously back at Harry.  This was weird.  Louis was used to feeling inadequate himself, not used to _Harry_ feeling that way.  He wasn’t practiced at cheering Harry up; Harry was always the one doing it for _him_ …

But _fuck_ —Louis was positively _relieved_ with the realization that that was _all_ it really was, that Harry wasn’t trying to put the brakes on this mutual-sex-watching-thing that had been going on with Liam and Zayn lately.  _He was just jealous._   Louis didn’t know if he _should_ , but he found it a bit endearing, knowing that Harry’s care for him came out as over-protectiveness sometimes.  At least Harry was _aware_ of that and was actively trying to cope with it.

Louis wanted for Harry to not _just_ cope though, but to actually be okay again, comfortable in the knowledge that Louis loved him.  So he did the only thing he could think of and moved on the sofa to straddle Harry, to wrap his arms around his waist, to softly kiss his neck.  “ _Baby_ ,” he hummed.  “Of _course_ you’re enough for me… _More_ than enough...You’re—you’re _it_ for me…”

“I’m just…I can’t help it…I’m…having issues with them— _shit, Lou_ —with them seeing you naked…and if you want that, that's _fine,_ it's just...they're getting to know all the little sounds you make,” Harry whispered, squeezing his eyes as Louis suckled at his neck.  This wasn’t how he expected Louis to react at all, and it was a pleasant surprise.  “Getting to see you when you _come_ … _fuck,_ it just—I just _—_ ”

Louis had to interrupt straightaway.  “But who’s the one _making_ me come, Haz?”

“Me,” Harry said happily, smiling slightly, lifting his hips up.

Rolling his hips atop Harry’s, Louis whispered, “And who’s the only one _allowed_ to make me come?  To touch me and make me _say_ all those little sounds in the first place?”

“That’d be me, too,” Harry whispered, reaching his hands down and squeezing Louis’ bum to pull him in tighter. “Mm,” he sighed at the satisfaction of feeling Louis pressed against him so intimately.  Harry had missed this, just him and Louis.

Louis removed his mouth from Harry’s neck and sat up fully in his lap, his trousers uncomfortably pinching him from where his cock had already begun swelling.  “Yeah,” Louis agreed quietly.  “ _You_.  You are.  It’s only you, Harry.  I…I only ever want _you_ …”

Stroking Harry’s ego surprisingly worked wonders.  Louis was on his back on the sofa in less than a second, Harry looming over him with a wicked grin on his face.  Harry rubbed his fingers over the zip of Louis’ pants, happy to touch what Louis so clearly had just confirmed as _his_ and only his.

 _"Mine,"_ Harry hummed.

“You’re really okay with everything?” Louis questioned as he began thickening under Harry’s nimble fingers.

Harry nodded.  “Just can’t help I get greedy sometimes,” he muttered, lowering his mouth to Louis’ again. “Forgive me for being a prick…I do love you, you know...”

Things escalated quickly, and when both of the boys were only in their boxers, rock hard and breathing heavily in each other’s faces, Louis had a sudden revelation.  “Hey,” he said breathlessly.  “…You know what’s missing, babe?”

Harry knit his eyebrows together.  He didn’t like Louis thinking something was missing from their sex life, especially because he tried so hard to give him anything he ever wanted.  He needed to immediately fix this.  “…What?”

“I think we need some…rules,” Louis suggested quietly, referring to their early conversation about Liam and Zayn that they’d obviously already forgotten about.  “Rules like you and I already have?  But, like…for everyone.  So we all know what’s expected.  So it'll maybe calm you down...maybe reign in your little possessiveness problem,” he quipped.  “…If you…if you want to keep doing it.”

Harry’s eyes lit up.  Before he lowered his lips to Louis’ again, he exclaimed, “Oh, I fucking _love_ you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis and Harry discuss limits and boundaries with Zayn and Liam, and after a night of drinking with Niall, decide to put some of them to use.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags that Apply: Voyuerism, Exhibitionism, Oral Sex, Anal Fingering, Barebacking, Group Sex, Deepthroating, Spanking, Very Slight Kink-Negotiation, Overstimulation

“I think we need some… _rules_ ,” Louis admitted with Harry’s body pressed atop his own. “Rules like you and I already have…”

Louis hoped and prayed that his voice portrayed how deeply he _missed_ having them.

Honestly, though, it wasn’t even really _about_ the rules for Louis.  It was everything else—the mentality of Harry being in charge and taking the pressure of _choices_ away from Louis, the feeling of being _small_ and _safe_ and _taken care of_.  Louis needed Harry’s control always.  Even if Liam and Zayn were there.  Otherwise, he just felt too anxious, too jittery like he'd drank too much tea.  He missed it all terribly.

Louis understood that _that_ was what he was craving— _yearning_ for—when he showed off for Liam and Zayn.  He wanted Harry to assert his dominance over him again, to make it clear to the others that, no matter what happened, Louis was _his_.  All he’d really gotten from Harry were useless threats that he never followed through with, and Louis realized that he had probably _hurt_ more than helped Harry’s overprotective instincts by trying to act out so much.  They were long-due for a conversation about it all.

Just not exactly _now_.

“Oh, I fucking love you,” Harry exclaimed to Louis, immediately kissing him all over, and the smaller boy giggled.  Louis could have guessed that Harry would like hearing that, and he only wished he’d have said something earlier.

“Love you, too, Haz,” Louis responded through a smile. 

Harry’s hands and lips were everywhere, all over his body, and Louis sighed at the attention.  “We’ll talk about all that stuff later,” Harry slurred onto Louis’ neck.  “Just want you…”

Louis wanted to make sure that Harry understood what he was really getting at by mentioning rules.  Of course, having guidelines with Liam and Zayn was a good solution for Harry’s jealousy, but…Louis _himself_ needed them back, as well.  He and Harry hadn’t even had sex _alone_ in months.  It had always been in front of Liam and Zayn.

“Do y’think—Can you—can we—“

“What do you want, babe?” Harry mumbled from where he was kissing Louis’ chest, his nipples.  Louis wiggled a bit, and Harry finally lifted his head.

“Like…can you…”  Louis shifted his eyes, “can you…you know...”

Harry’s face changed.  “Just ask me for what you want, Lou.”

“… _Dominate me_?” Louis mumbled in the lightest voice Harry’d ever heard.  "Like, now?"

Harry’s bright eyes turned darker at Louis’ fucking _face_ , his fucking _voice_ asking him that.  “Of course,” he answered immediately, his voice deep.  He smashed his lips back to Louis’.  “Fuck, _yeah_ , baby,” he repeated, “course.”

This had come on quickly, so Harry worked quickly to decide what to do to Louis next.  Louis was hard in just his boxers lying back on the sofa, ready to go, but Harry liked the bedroom best for this kind of thing.  Harry kissed him one more time and said, “Go to our room and undress.  Wait for me on the bed, hands and knees.”

Louis nodded and walked away from the sofa, and Harry almost hit his head against the wall at how _stupid_ he’d been lately.  He’d been jealous without even recognizing it, and now that he _had_ recognized it, he hadn’t realized that _Louis_ had been dealing with his own shit, too.  Of course Louis would be feeling lost lately without Harry being able to take care of him properly in so long.

Now Louis had to succumb to _asking Harry to dominate him_ when he should _never_ have to ask for something like that.  Harry always knew when Louis got to that point.  Harry always gave Louis what he needed.  Except for lately…

But that was going to change.

Harry stood from the couch and felt _tall_ again for the first time in a while, felt like he was in control of himself, like Louis was _his_ and only his, and he liked the familiarity of it.

Harry fucked Louis like Louis deserved that night—ate out his arse, held his clasped hands behind his back while he mounted and fucked him, plugged him up when it was done so he could stay stretched and full of Harry for as long as he wanted.  When Harry told him to, Louis came.  He came with Harry’s firm body behind his own, weightily overpowering him until Louis fell apart on the bed and eventually came back together again in Harry’s arms.

Louis felt back-to-normal almost immediately, endorphins swimming in his brain as he melted against Harry’s body in the afterglow of it all.

“You know what this means now,” Harry said after a long while, still holding Louis’ overheated body in his arms.  “If we’re going to tell Liam and Zayn we want group rules, we need to tell them about everything _we_ do.  About what’s normal for us.”

“I want that,” Louis answered softly.  “I want them to know.  I’m ready.  I’ve…missed it.  I’ve been going _mad_ trying to misbehave lately, trying to get you to control me in front of them.”

Harry jerked his head.  “What?”

Louis turned his head away from Harry’s suddenly strong gaze.  “Yeah, like…showing off…trying to get you to punish me.  Like, really punish me.”

“Oh, _really_?” 

Louis nodded slightly, and though they’d just finished, Harry was almost ready for another go.  “ _Shit_ , I just—I just didn’t know that you’ve wanted to…with the other lads around and everything.”

“Want it all the time,” Louis whispered.

“Good to know,” Harry teased lightly since he knew Louis always felt embarrassed by asking for things like that.  He reached forward and turned Louis’ face back to his own, gave him a little kiss to express his happiness that Louis had just admitted that.  He still had to say, “You little brat.”  Louis just giggled.

A few minutes passed, both of the boys just simply enjoying their skin-on-skin contact, and soon, Harry said, “All right, if we’re gonna do this, let’s go ahead and decide what we want the rules to be.”

Harry and Louis talked for hours that night, discussing _everything_ at length—Harry’s feelings, Louis’ feelings, limits and boundaries and kinks—and by the time they were finished, it was midnight and Louis was ready to go to sleep.

“So…with the rules we’ve just made up,” Louis said, “aren’t you a little afraid you’ll get jealous again?  Those are some pretty big steps, and I—”

Harry put a gentle finger on Louis’ mouth.  “I can control it now,” he said.  “For a minute there, it just felt like they were taking you away from me or something.”

“But you realize now that that’s impossible?”

“Yeah.”  Harry smiled.

“Good,” Louis responded.  “Dumb arse.”

“Heyyy,” Harry said.  “You get to sleep with your butt plug in for that.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey lads,” Harry greeted as he sat next to Louis on the sofa and waved. “All right?”

Everyone smiled in greeting at Harry, albeit a little nervously.  It had been a week since anybody had had real contact outside of work, a week since Harry and Louis had made up a few communal rules, and Harry thought it was time to get together. 

He’d asked everyone to come to his and Louis’ place to “hang out and talk,” and the implications of the word “talk” freaked everyone out a bit.  Of course, Harry thought he was being casual when he’d invited the others over, but he was horrible at hiding his real intentions when it came to things like that.  Louis had told him as much after he got off the phone with everyone the night before.

“Jesus, you all look like you’re frozen,” Louis said.  “Everyone can chill out.”  He rested his head in Harry’s lap and stretched the rest of his body out along the sofa.  “It’s just us.”

Liam shrugged.  “It’s just peculiar that Harry rings us up last night and takes a _half hour_ to tell us he wants us to come over.”

“Excuse me, Liam, I did not take a half hour,” Harry replied indignantly.

“ _’Er, we were thinking, like, er, maybe if you and Zayn are free tomorrow, uh, you can come over and talk, and, like, chill with us, and talk,’_ ” Liam mocked Harry’s slow voice.  Louis cackled and looked up at Harry with a grin.

“You so sounded like that,” Louis said.

Harry narrowed his eyes in a faux-challenge to Louis before saying to the group, “Well, fine, cat’s out of the bag.  I just think we need to start openly _talking_ about what we’ve been doing lately, that’s all.”  When he was met with silence, he asked, “…Don’t you think?”

Liam cleared his throat from the loveseat nearby.   “Well, yeah,” he agreed, putting his hand on Zayn’s knee.  “So, in all seriousness, I know it’s, erm, probably… _odd_.  That we…you know, that we’ve like…  I’m sorry we haven’t said anything about it before—”

“Look,” Harry interrupted, touching Louis’ shoulder, “there’s no reason to apologize.  If it’s making Louis happy, I’m fine with it.”

Liam nodded, still unsure of where this was going.  He had thought that Harry was going to say that it was getting too weird, that they’d have to stop.  “Yeah, same for me—with Zayn.”

“But I think we should set up some ground rules.  So everyone’s clear on what’s acceptable and stuff.”

Louis smiled up at his boyfriend.  Harry was so fucking hot with his whole “taking charge and making rules” thing he always did.  Just the way he said things demanded subordinance in a way.  He could tell as much from how Liam and Zayn were staring at him.

“Yeah, man,” Liam said quickly, “I totally agree.”

“If this is about me kissing him, mate,” Zayn began, holding up his hands, “my apologies.  I didn’t—I wasn’t thinking.”

“No, that’s just the thing,” Harry said nicely, “sometimes we _don’t_ think when we’re doing it.  So I just think it’s important to kind of know what’s okay and what’s not okay, what you all are fine with and what _we’re_ fine with, that sort of thing.  So the rules will be stuck in our brains, so we don’t have to worry about it while we’re in the moment.  We’ll already know.”

“Okay,” said Zayn in relief at the same time Liam politely agreed, “Makes sense.”

Harry heavily sighed.  Looking back up at Liam and Zayn, he started, “Look, I don’t know how much you two know about what Louis and I are really like in bed.  But I’m going to go ahead and assume you don’t know too much…”

Louis diverted his eyes.  He _had_ once told Zayn that he got off on “Harry taking charge in bed,” but that hadn’t really been giving much away, had it?  What if this new knowledge Harry was about to divulge completely scared them off?  He really, really, really hoped it didn’t because he really, really, really wanted it back.

“ _Sooo_ ,” Harry began, “Louis and I engage in a sort of dom/sub relationship.  Sexually,” Harry said right off the bat.  “Like, everything minus the whips and chains and collars and stuff.  Well, as of right now, at least,” Harry muttered. 

Louis wanted to smirk, but he was still looking at Zayn and Liam, trying to gauge their reaction.

“And, er,” Harry continued, “what that basically means is that…Louis and I like to—in bed we like to—it’s almost like role-play,” Harry explained, wishing that Liam or Zayn would say something.  “But not really…It’s like…I’m in control, and he does what I tell him to, and if he doesn’t, he gets punished.  Which, before you say anything, isn’t anything horrible.  Just light stuff, like spanking and things like that.”  Harry had so much more to say about it than that, but he kept it short.  He felt like he’d given Liam and Zayn a lot to process at the moment, anyway.

“You guys are really into that?” Liam finally asked, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah,” Harry admitted reluctantly.  Then— _fuck it_ —why should he be reluctant?  “Yeah,” he repeated, louder this time, holding onto Louis’ shoulder tightly.  “I’m telling you this because we can get quite intense, I reckon, and I just want everyone to be on the same page if we’re going to keep fucking in front of one another.  I want you guys to know what we’re going to be like from now on, what to expect...and basically if you two are okay with that?”

Zayn swallowed at Harry’s bluntness.  “Intense is good,” he said in a tight voice.  “Intense is fine.”

Louis smiled gratefully at him from across the room.

“Okay…so, that’s that…Are you guys okay if we’re—if we do that in front of you?”

The two other boys nodded, looking a little shell-shocked but still accepting.

“Okay, well, I just—we’ve both realized that if we’re going to continue having sex in front of each other and stuff, that part of us is just going to have to come out eventually.  It’s just who we are…”

“Well…I’m sorry you’ve felt like you couldn’t tell us, mate,” Liam said.

“Oh, it wasn’t really that.  I don’t know,” Harry replied.  All the other boys looked at him, realizing that he was about to make a speech.  “It’s just—all of this is so new.  It’s different.  Like, I don’t know if you’ve noticed at all, but I’ve been kind of a dick, hogging Louis and all.  Or, well—I feel like that, at least.  And now I know that I’ve been quite silly.  Because, like I said, if it’s making Louis happy, I’m happy.  But I do have to stress t there are certain limits to that…so…we’ve come up with some boundaries.”

“Right,” Liam said, “the rules you mentioned.”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded.  “I guess I’ll just be very clear, then…and you can tell me your thoughts, too, and stuff,” said Harry, speaking mainly to Liam.  “And you, too, of course,” he added, gesturing to Zayn and lastly to Louis with a long look.

“Okay, then.  So…honestly, Liam,” Harry jumped right to it, “I don’t think I could ever handle it if you ever kissed or touched Louis at all.  Zayn’s… _fine_ …Like, that’s okay, but I’d have to, like—I’m drawing the line if you ever want to fool around with him,” Harry said, not caring if that made him appear mean.  “And Louis and I have talked about it already, and if you’re cool with it, we’re cool with Zayn and Louis messing about and stuff.”

Zayn and Liam looked at one another and shrugged.  “Yeah…yeah, that sounds fine,” Liam said.

“What does ‘messing about’ mean, exactly?” Zayn asked.

Harry sighed.  “That’s up to you two.  Basically anything short of sex.”

“Like, oral’s okay?”

Harry nodded, and Zayn looked incredulous for a moment.

“You’d seriously be okay with me sucking his dick?  With him sucking mine?”

“ _I_ ….would…Yes _,_ I’d be okay with it,” Harry said slowly.  He _would_ be fine with it.  The idea just took some getting used to.  Harry had some residual jealousy he was still holding onto, but he and Louis had discussed everything at length in bed the other night.

“Why just me, though?  Why not Liam, too?” Zayn asked.

“Because those are my boundaries,” Harry said immediately.  “Not to be an arsehole or anything.  I just know myself.  I know I couldn’t handle that.”

“Why?  Because Zayn tops, too?” Zayn asked.

Harry just shrugged.  “Maybe.”  _Exactly_.  “That reminds me of the next thing, actually.  No swapping partners.  It’s _just_ me and Louis, and _just_ you and Liam,” Harry spoke to Zayn, “only that you and Louis can mess around.”

“Okay,” Liam interrupted, “No swapping.  That’s easy.  Wasn’t planning on it anyway.  But just curious, though—why is it just them that get to…?”

“Well, how would you feel if I touched and kissed Zayn?” Harry asked.  “Not that I ever would,” he whispered down to Louis.

The thought of it alone made something prickle inside Liam’s stomach.  “Yeah—no, I see what you mean.  Not that I wanted to touch Louis or anything, just so you know.”  Harry just looked on with a slight frown.  “Not that Louis’ not fit, or anything—”

Harry finally smiled and laughed.  “I was just kidding, it’s fine.  So, does anyone have any issues with what we’ve just established?”  Everyone looked around at each other and shook their heads.  “So…Does anyone want to add anything at all?”  Same response.  Everyone shrugged and agreeably shook their heads again.

Harry smiled, finding that this actually wasn’t awkward at all.  It _should_ be, but it wasn’t.  Everyone was just so damn close.  It was ridiculous, really.  “Okay, then,” Harry said, clapping his hands. “Excellent…So, if anything pops up, just speak out at any time.  I really think it’s good that we’re communicating about this more.”

“Totally,” Liam agreed, “just let me make sure I get everything.  We continue what we’ve been doing—just staying with couples—only Zayn and Louis can play with each other more now, kiss and touch and stuff?  Maybe other stuff?”  Harry and Louis confirmed that with a nod, and Liam continued, “Okay, I’m fine with that.”  He looked at Zayn.  “That okay with you?”

Zayn nodded happily, and Louis could tell he was fighting the urge to bounce up and down on the loveseat because Louis was holding back the urge to kick his feet himself.  Noticing that Louis hadn’t spoken at _all_ , Zayn asked, “So what’d’ya think, Lou?  Excited?”

“I am excited as shit, to be honest,” he answered with a huge smile. 

Harry bent down and kissed his cheek, and eventually, as always, that turned into more.  For just that night, however, everyone decided to just get each other off on the separate sofas they were lying on instead of jumping into anything crazy _just yet._

 

* * *

“It’s that song you like!” Niall yelled, pointing to the ceiling where he inevitably thought the music was coming from.  “Hey, Harry, it’s that song you like!”

Harry heard his name and turned to face Niall with raised eyebrows.  “The— _song_ —” Niall repeated louder. 

The next week, the band were all out at a pub—a loud one, at that—and Harry was having trouble hearing.

“What?” Harry asked from across the table, leaning closer to Niall.

Niall rolled his eyes.  “Forget it,” he muttered.  He finished his pint and was about to get another when everyone stood from the table they were sharing and began walking towards the exit.  Niall went along with them, figuring Zayn and Louis probably wanted a smoke.  Feeling smug when he heard the click of their lighters outside on the pavement, he unsteadily stood next to them and asked, “So where to next, boys?”

Harry looked apologetic.  “Oh, well, we were all just gonna head home...”

“Aw, come on,” Niall replied indignantly, “it ain’t even late.  We can still go to another pub!  There’s one right around the corner we can—”

“It’s almost one in the morning,” Liam interrupted, looking at his watch.

“And since when is that late?!”

“Since we’ve gotten _old_ and _boring_ ,” Louis responded from where he was leaning on the wall next to Zayn.

“Yeah, yeah.  Fuckin’ _couples_.” Niall looked a little upset but realized he wasn’t going to get anyone to stay up with him.  “I get it.  You lot are just trying to get rid of me so you can go have some mad orgy or something, I bet.  I know all your filthy secrets,” Niall said, laughing loudly.

“What the fuck?” Zayn asked.

“See?” Harry asked immediately.  “You clearly need to get to bed, Nialler.  You’ve gone delusional,” he chuckled.

A taxi pulled up to the curb and Harry steered Niall inside the back of it.  Niall stuck his head out the window and yelled, “Don’t film anything you wouldn’t want the fans to see!”  His laughter was heard all the way down the street until the cab turned at a stoplight.

Louis dropped his cigarette and looked at Harry once Niall was gone.  Harry shook his head at the unspoken question he saw on Louis’ face, the one that asked, _was he being serious?_

“Man, he got pissed quick, didn’t he?” Zayn asked.

“I think he’s still on that medication for his knee,” Liam commented, standing closely beside Zayn.  “It’s really not safe to be mixing that and alcohol…”

“Aw, he would’ve told us if he couldn’t drink, right?” Louis asked.  “He’ll be fine.  _You_ drank more than he did tonight, Liam.  Just let that sink in.”

Liam smiled proudly and gave Zayn a look Louis didn’t understand.

The four of them squeezed in the back of the next taxi they saw and gave the driver Harry’s address.  Harry felt bad about lying to Niall, but if he hadn’t have, Niall would’ve felt horribly left-out knowing everyone was going to the same place.  Louis could tell by Harry’s face that he was struggling with it, and he whispered, “We see him all the time.  We’re seeing him tomorrow.  He’s drunk.  It’s okay.”

Louis wanted to rest his head on Harry’s shoulder, but to be safe, he didn’t.  Harry just looked at him and smiled, maybe even possessively placed a discreet-but-not-really hand on Louis’ knee.  Louis winked and turned his head, trying not to think too heavily on the fact that this would be the first time all four of them would be… _together_ …since they had that conversation about expectations a handful of nights ago.  He honestly wasn’t sure what would be in store, and he was beyond excited.

 

* * *

 

Harry and Louis’ sofa was situated against the wall of their lounge, and Liam and Harry sat on it, staring at their respective boyfriends and sipping beer.  Liam found that ever since he discovered he could drink alcohol, things were even _better_ with Zayn.  Even though they had been in public, Liam hadn’t been able to stop rubbing his foot up and down Zayn’s calf under the table the entire time they were at the pub earlier, incapable of hiding his affection and the sheer _pride_ he felt at being able to call Zayn his own.

Now at Harry and Louis’ place, Liam was slightly inebriated, happy, _and_ randy, alcohol running hot through his veins and making him hard just _anticipating_ the pleasure everyone was about to have tonight.  Maybe he’d even take a bit of Harry and Louis’ lifestyle to heart tonight with Zayn.  He was feeling loose enough tonight to try, at least.

Ever since that talk at Harry’s house, Liam’s mind was flooded with a hundred million things.  Things Harry'd said that he thought were quite mad at the time—like, _why take forty minutes on foreplay alone,_ or _what’s the point of teasing so,_ so _much_ –-but now was second-guessing since he had some alcohol in him.  Everything seemed more and more attractive to him as time went on.

Liam had his bare feet propped up casually on the coffee table in front of him, and Harry’s feet were on the floor, his toes unconsciously itching against the carpet.  Louis and Zayn were currently dancing together in the middle of the room to low-playing music in the background, fully clothed and drinking cocktails Harry just made while sneaking teasing little glances at the sofa as they swayed.  Harry’s heart thumped loudly in his chest already.  They knew they were being watched.  They were putting on a show.

Zayn reached for Louis’ waist and pulled him in close, softly kissing him once their bodies touched.  He took Louis’ drink from his hand and placed it, along with his own, on the coffee table, meeting Liam’s eyes as he did so.  Liam puckered his lips in an imaginary kiss, and Zayn ran his tongue along his lips in reply.

Returning to Louis, Zayn snaked his hands down Louis’ sides and untucked his shirt from his trousers, pulling it up and off in one fluid motion.  Louis wrapped his hands around Zayn’s lower back, fingers tentatively touching and grazing against the skin underneath the material of his shirt, and Zayn smiled reassuringly at him before lifting his own shirt above his head, as well.

Louis was happy with their soft, exposed skin and leaned forward to meet his chest with Zayn’s, smiling largely in excitement—this was happening, this was happening—but Zayn wanted _more_ clothes off.  Before Louis knew what he was doing, Zayn had Louis’ trousers unbuttoned and unzipped.  Zayn quickly pulled them down and off until Louis was just in his briefs.  Louis looked over at Harry and swallowed at the look he received; Harry always loved it when Louis wore tight underwear.  They “made his arse look illegal,” Harry always said.  Now Harry’s mouth was set in a straight, tense line of what Louis knew to be desire.

Louis and Zayn touched each other all over, on one another’s chests and backs and arms and stomachs, any soft stretch of skin that they could caress.  Zayn whispered something to Louis that Harry and Liam couldn’t hear, and Louis smiled and looked over at his boyfriend, biting his bottom lip in his mouth when he saw how darkly Harry was continuing to stare at him.

Zayn wrapped his hand around Louis’ neck, fingers tickling the back of his hair, thumb brushing his ear, and he leaned forward to press his lips to Louis’ for the first time that night.  Zayn’s head had to slightly drop to account for Louis’ height, and Louis, used to kissing Harry, naturally tilted his head back to welcome Zayn’s lips to his own.  Louis’ hands rested on Zayn’s hips as he began slowly moving his mouth against Zayn’s.

Kissing Zayn was different than kissing Harry.  Harry’s mouth was more over-powering, his lips instantly covering and _taking_ Louis, causing Louis to melt each and every time just from the passion of it all.  Zayn’s mouth was more cautious, soft and almost hesitant against Louis’ lips, but he and Zayn kissed easily.  Though they were snogging slowly, it was still intense because they were being watched.  They felt every tiny movement and heard every little sound their mouths made.  Zayn backed away from time to time to smile at Louis, and Louis couldn’t help but return the gesture.  Doing this in front of Harry and Liam was invigorating.

They dragged their wet lips smoothly against one another, mildly touching tongues until Louis clutched hard at Zayn’s skin, wanting more.  Soon, Louis had to break the kiss to catch his breath, and Zayn took the opportunity to graze Louis’ erection through his underwear.  Louis hissed at the contact and tried not to rut against Zayn’s fingers.  He wanted to be good for Harry.

Zayn dropped to his knees and looked up at Louis as he reached above him and slowly pulled down Louis’ pants.  Immediately, Louis’ cock sprung out, and Louis’ mouth fell down.  This _had_ all been in the rules…that they could do this.  But they just _hadn’t_ yet, and Louis looked over at Harry for reassurance that it was still okay.

Harry’s face was almost unreadable, but Louis knew Harry would speak up if something was wrong, so Louis just swallowed and looked back to Zayn, who by now had begun nuzzling the inside of Louis’ thighs with his nose.  Dear God.  He kissed the skin there slowly, and his mouth made small noises with each peck in some sort of filthy promise of what he was about to do.

Finally, Zayn leaned back a bit, almost going cross-eyed while staring at Louis in all of his glory.  A moment later, he looked up at Louis’ face and sucked in his bottom lip.  While his hands feathered up and down the sides of Louis’ legs, Zayn complimented, “You know…you’ve really got an amazing body, Louis…”

Louis’ cock noticeably twitched, and his eyes darted again to the sofa.  Harry was leaning forward now, resting his forearms on his knees with his hands clasped together.  He gave Louis a tiny wink and a nod, and Louis looked away, focusing on Zayn again now that Harry had calmed his anxiety down.

“Don’t know if I’ve ever told you,” Zayn finished with a whisper.  He leaned his head forward and immediately tongued at Louis’ cockhead, licking it like something divine, like the richest bar of chocolate melting on his lips.  Finding the pre-cum there salty-sweet like candy, Zayn repeated his licking, sometimes pausing afterwards to let the cool air dry off the saliva he’d built up on Louis’ cock, sometimes pausing to blow on the tip himself.

“Taste bloody amazing, as well,” Zayn said.

Louis took in a deep, shaky breath, and he clutched at his own sides as Zayn finally enveloped the head of his cock in his mouth, slowly sliding his mouth down until every bit of Louis disappeared inside.

Harry’s face was severe as he looked on.  He reached between his legs and pulled at his jeans a bit, shifting himself and giving his ever-growing cock more room to breathe.  Liam, too, was having the same problem, and he dropped his feet to the floor to match Harry’s position.  Harry looked at him from the corner of his eye and noticed that he was steadily shifting his hips on the couch cushions to find relief.

When Harry looked back at Louis, he was happy to see that Louis was now looking at him, too.  Though this was now permitted—Zayn and Louis fooling around with each other—it was new to Louis, and he didn’t know what to do—or what to even think—without Harry guiding him, talking to him.  Louis’ eyes were asking for direction, and Harry was happy to help.

“What’s it feel like, love?” Harry asked his boyfriend softly after taking a sip of beer.

Louis had his left hand on his stomach and his right hand on his mouth, and when he heard Harry’s voice, his right hand dropped to Zayn’s soft hair.  He looked down to see half of his dick in Zayn’s mouth, the other half slippery with spit, and looked at Harry again.  “Erm.”

Harry said gently, “You can tell me.”

It felt bloody _amazing_ , but Louis didn’t know how to put into words what he was feeling, so he settled with, “ _Good_.”

Harry raised his eyebrows.  “Just good?”

Harry saw Louis’ Adam’s apple move as he swallowed tightly and replied with a nod, “ _Really_ …really good.”

Zayn began moving his mouth vigorously then as if he had something to prove, as if he wanted to show Louis how “ _really good_ ” he was at sucking cock.  He swallowed Louis, putting all of Louis’ cock in his mouth— _Jesus_ —before removing his lips completely just to do the same thing over and over again.  And faster, and _faster_ , until Louis was whimpering and clutching his muscles so as not to fuck into Zayn’s mouth and get into big trouble.  Though it was Zayn doing this, Harry was still watching, and Harry didn’t approve when Louis was greedy.

Zayn added his hand then, cupping Louis’ balls while suctioning his mouth and sucking with a force Louis was sure would _rip his cum right from his body_ —

“That’s enough, Louis,” Harry said quietly, though Louis wasn’t even doing anything but standing as still as he could, staring down at Zayn.

Zayn audibly dropped Louis’ cock from his mouth and backed away from Louis, looking at Harry questioningly while wiping his mouth.  Liam was opening up his trousers and pulling out his own cock right as Louis’ dick came untouched, cum shooting out ahead of him without any warning.  Louis groaned and stared down at himself in shock, white droplets still dripping from his cock and onto the carpet underneath him.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Louis muttered, turning his back to everyone else while clutching his still-twitching hips.  Meanwhile, Harry stared at Louis’ back and arse, placed his beer on the side table, and rose from the sofa.  He had known from Louis’ face that that was going to happen.

Liam had freed his cock and was now touching himself slowly to the knowledge that Zayn had just gotten Louis off with only his mouth.  In just a matter of minutes.  “Get your cute little arse over here and suck _me_ now,” he told his boyfriend, which had Zayn scurrying over on his knees and kneeling in between Liam’s legs.

Happily, Zayn dropped his mouth to Liam’s cock and, after teasing just a bit, took all of him inside in one long, slow motion, using the saliva built up in his mouth from sucking Louis to help glide his way along Liam.

“ _Shit_ ,” Liam hissed.  His eyes almost rolled back, but he maintained composure, telling himself to hold off orgasming for as long as he possibly could.

Harry quietly walked to Louis, wrapping his arms around him from behind and trying to warm up his shivering body.  He kissed the back of Louis’ hair and ran his nose up and down the side of his neck, breathing him in.  “Couldn’t help it, could you, baby?” Harry asked.

Louis shamefully shook his head, feeling truly embarrassed that he’d done that, and Harry continued whispering into his ear, “Guess what would’ve happened if that’d been me sucking you instead of him?”

“I would’ve came even quicker?” Louis asked, a little bit of snark coming out to hide his shame at not being able to control his damn body.

Harry let a chuckle escape.  “Oh, no, no…Try again.”

Louis squeezed his eyes shut.  “Punished,” he breathed out. 

A dozen things ran through Louis’ mind as he spoke the word.  Oh, how he _missed_ getting punished.  Though “punished” usually just meant a spanking that both he _and_ Harry knew was actually more _pleasurable_ than reprimanding, he still missed it greatly.  He missed Harry actually enforcing the rules they had together.  But maybe— _maybe_ —since there were rules back on the table now, maybe Harry would do something about it?  Louis felt himself tingle between his legs again.

“Mm,” Harry replied, running his hands up and down the sides of Louis’ stomach.  He moved Louis around so that they both could see Zayn on his knees giving Liam head, steadily bobbing his head up and down slowly.

Harry dropped a hand to Louis’ softened cock, spreading around the semen still wet there on the tip.  “If you came like that with me…I’d fuck you all night with your cock ring on for being so bad.”

Louis distinctly swallowed.  He _hated_ that thing, and Harry knew it.  “Good thing it was just Zayn, though, hm?”

“Yeah,” Louis agreed, half-way not realizing what he was saying, for he was enraptured by the look on Liam’s face.  Liam was muttering little things here and there to Zayn, and sounds from Zayn’s mouth grew progressively louder in the room.  _Salivating, sputtering, slurping on top of Liam’s cock._

“You’re saying you fancy Zayn’s mouth more than _mine_?”

Louis quickly shook his head.  “No, no, I didn’t mean—”

“What did you mean it like, then?”  Harry smugly smiled and Louis couldn’t see.  He loved that he was making Louis so flustered, getting him in his fuzzy headspace already, making him feel small like he always loved.

As Louis stuttered, Harry watched as Liam pushed Zayn back a bit so he could take off his own clothes.  Harry, Louis, and Liam watched as Zayn stood up and took off the rest of his clothes, too, then immediately dropped back down to his knees to continue his work like he was magnetized to Liam’s dick.

“I meant, like…”  Louis whimpered a bit at the noises Liam was starting to make.  “I like your mouth—I love your mouth.  I was thinking it was _you_ , picturing it was you…’s why I came so soon.  _Swear_ …”

“Oh, but Zayn’s not so bad, yeah?  Look at him, baby,” Harry whispered directly into Louis’ ear, causing chills to run up his spine as he watched and listened to Zayn noisily suck and moan around Liam’s dick.  “You can suck as good as Zayn can, can’t you?  Better, even…”

“I—I don’t know,” Louis said, unsure now that he had experienced first-hand how talented Zayn was.

“Why don’t you suck me, then, hm?  Show Liam and Zayn how good you are at taking my cock in your mouth?”

Louis wanted to—he _really_ wanted to—but _deep-throating?_   “Er…”

“It’s actually not a suggestion,” Harry said.  “It’s your consequence for coming so soon.  If you do it, I just might give you my cock here,” Harry whispered as he touched Louis’ dry hole with his hand not currently occupied with getting Louis’ dick hard again.  Louis breathed heavily, and when he still didn’t answer, Harry roughly squeezed the base of his cock.  “What d’you say, baby?  You gonna be good and do it?”

Louis nodded his head in silent assent.  He immediately dropped to his knees right there in the middle of the lounge, about to open Harry’s trousers but stopping himself last-minute.  Harry just tapped Louis’ hands away and motioned to the sofa.  Following Zayn’s earlier motion, Louis walked himself to the sofa on his knees and obediently waited for Harry to sit down next to Liam.

Harry shucked off all his clothes and kicked them to the side then, walking back to the couch and sitting down in his earlier spot.  Louis swallowed as he looked to the left and saw Zayn literally _choking_ on Liam’s cock, taking all of it in his mouth and clutching Liam’s hips.  Liam and Zayn barely noticed Louis and Harry now sitting next to them because they were now in their own little world, just the two of them.

“Zayyyn,” Liam groaned.  “Ugh—oh, _fuck_ , Zayn, listen to yourself,” he said as he pushed his hips in further, making deep noises jolt out of Zayn’s throat. “I can fucking _see_ myself in your throat, baby, oh my _God_ …”

Zayn’s eyes were glossy and large, staring up at Liam who had now leaned forward to the very edge of the couch so he could hold Zayn’s head firmly in his hands while fucking into his mouth.  Zayn’s fucking face was blotchy and sweaty _already_.

 _Fuck_.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck._ Louis grew a bit more worried; he didn’t think he could put that much of Harry down his throat.  He’d never done it before, and he was nervous.  He’d tried it before and wasn’t able to continue; Harry was just too large.  Louis highly doubted that he could get all of Harry’s cock to fit inside his tiny mouth, but then again, there was Liam right beside him…just as big as Harry, and _Zayn_ was doing it…

“I—I just don’t know—” Louis began nervously, knowing it was his punishment but still not being able to move forward with it.

“You can take it like that, I know you can,” Harry encouraged, reaching forward and tucking Louis’ fringe to the side and out of his eyes.  “You can do it, baby.”

Louis gave Harry a small nod, knowing that Harry would be happy no matter what he did, but hoping with every little cell inside of him that he would be able to do it like Zayn could.  Harry leaned down then and held Louis’ face in his two large hands, gently kissing away the taste of Zayn there.

“You ready?”

As Harry leaned back, Louis could only nod again, his racing heart stuck in his throat.

Harry casually widened his legs and held himself at the root of his cock.  Louis leaned forward and opened his mouth as he’d done hundreds of times before, looking up for Harry’s permission to continue.  Harry almost couldn’t deal with the look of trust on Louis’ face, and he soothingly ran his thumb along Louis’ cheekbone in adoration before saying, “Go on.”

Louis lowered his head then, slowly inching Harry’s cock in his mouth, swirling his tongue around and around along the way, only stopping when his mouth became too widely stretched to do so anymore.  Louis’ breath came out in small huffs, and when he felt Harry’s cockhead prod at the back of his throat, he looked up at Harry with his mouth stuffed full, wanting approval.  Harry’s mouth had dropped open and his eyelids had drooped a bit, and he moved his hand to cart through Louis’ hair.  Taking this to be a good sign, Louis forced himself to lower his mouth even _further_ onto Harry’s cock, feeling a bit like he was about to be sick but trudging through the feeling until he felt like he literally couldn’t go down anymore.

It wasn’t the most pleasant thing he’d done.  His throat hurt like mad, and he had to experiment with ways to breathe through his nose, but he was _doing it_.  _He had Harry all the way in his throat_ , and Louis could tell that, even after just orgasming, his dick was full between his legs again just from the feeling of having Harry like this.  After a while, the hurt in Louis’ throat turned into a bit more of a dull burn, and Louis found that it was easy to relax his throat and jaw with Harry softly cooing down to him, telling him how good he was doing.

“Can you breathe?” Harry asked, voice strained like it took a lot of energy just to ask the question.  Louis tried to nod but ended up looking up at Harry and blinking heavily to answer.  _God, Louis loved this man._   He’d suck his dick for _days_ if Harry asked him to.  Harry was feeling similarly worshipful, loving that Louis was doing this for him, loving how _good_ Louis was at doing anything Harry asked him to.

Once Louis’ lips and nose were touching Harry’s pubic hair, he truly _couldn’t_ move his head anymore, not even a bit.  He remained like that for a moment, just focusing on slowing down his breathing and trying not to gag.  Then he gripped Harry’s hips in his hands just like he had seen Zayn do, clutching firmly at Harry’s bum to try and pull him further inside, finding that he needed more, _had_ to have more.  Harry allowed it and pushed down on Louis’ head at the same time.  Slowly, slowly, slowly. 

“Squeeze—squeeze my hand if you need me to stop,” Harry gritted out.

Louis made genuine choking noises then. He was fucking _choking_ on Harry’s erection, and it was the hottest thing in the entire world.

Saliva fell from Louis’ mouth and pooled at the base of Harry’s cock and down to his balls as Harry just barely moved the tip of himself back and forth in Louis’ throat, and Louis’ watery eyes looked up at Harry, needing him to talk him through it.

“Fuck, Lou, _fuck_ —look at you,” Harry muttered, his voice deep and raw.  _“You are so fucking perfect.”_

Beside Harry and Louis, Liam had gripped Zayn’s hair in both of his hands and was fucking up into his mouth faster than Harry was doing to Louis.  Zayn slurped around Liam’s dick messily, making loud sucking noises as he tried to milk Liam’s cum out of him, and _fuck_ , if Louis could’ve moaned, he would have.

“Look at you both…” Liam grunted gruffly down to Zayn, his breathing becoming short, “…sucking our dicks like this—so _good_ —such sluts for our cocks… _fuck_.”

Louis whined deep in his throat around Harry, looking up at him with wild eyes.  He was almost never called a slut in bed…Harry only ever used the word on rare occasions, and _only_ if Louis requested it, but hearing it—even from Liam—made Louis feel utterly naughty, and he stuck his tongue out to lick at Harry’s balls as far as he could reach, desperately wanting Harry to empty himself in his mouth.  _“Yeah, I’m a slut,”_ he thought as hard as he could over the sound of him choking, _“all for Harry--Harry’s slut, Harry’s slut.”_

Harry felt his balls tighten at the sensation of Louis’ tongue there, and he lifted Louis’ head off of his dick as gently as he could, wiping at the drool on Louis’ mouth.  “ _Shittt_ —Gonna make me come too soon, Lou,” he gave reason for the loss of contact. 

Harry’s dick was deep red, stock still, and sloppy wet.  Having worked on self-orgasm-delay for a very long time, he was used to the tight, almost painful feeling of being on the edge of coming and then having to stop.  While Louis could come multiple times in a night, Harry normally couldn’t, and he didn’t want this to end too soon.  He was serious about pleasuring Louis first, and plus, the feeling when he _did_ actually come was so completely worth the bit of discomfort from stopping.

Sensing he was about to come, too, Liam noticeably softened his grip on Zayn’s hair and moved his hips back so he was only half-way inside Zayn’s mouth now.  Zayn whined.

“You can still keep me there, Zayn,” Liam said.  “Just suck slowly and try not to make me come just yet.”

Zayn took his mouth completely off Liam, and with a croaky voice he said, “That’s the entire point, babe.”

Old Liam would’ve agreed.  Old Liam would’ve spilled inside Zayn’s mouth _forever_ ago, filled Zayn up until he was forced to gag and swallow it all, and then he’d suck at Zayn until Zayn came in his mouth, too.

It would’ve been over in five minutes.

New Liam was beginning to understand that sex didn’t have to be all _go, go, go_ all the time.  It was hard when your boyfriend was _Zayn Malik_ —always eager, always enthusiastic—but Liam was learning.  He _was_.  He was learning that he and Zayn could take their time with things like Louis and Harry did…that everything didn’t have to be so _frantic_ each time they fucked.  Liam had taken to quietly studying what Harry did with Louis and trying his best to do the same with Zayn in order to make sex more worthwhile for both Zayn _and_ himself.  He had a feeling that tonight it would work.  Tonight _would_ be worthwhile.

Liam motioned for Zayn to sit up, and Zayn hopped on Liam’s lap with ease.  As Zayn straddled him, Liam pulled his head down and whispered in his ear, “Not tonight, it’s not.  It’s to show Harry and Louis what a good boy you are.  And you did show them…You did _so_ , so well, babe.”

Zayn’s heart quickened, and he looked curiously at Liam.  Liam didn’t normally talk to him that way.  Liam’s face was expressionless as he stared on at Zayn, and Zayn hotly dropped his mouth to Liam’s, finding that he quite liked being told he was a good boy.

Beside the pair, Louis’ throat was raw.  His head was clear, though, only focused on pleasing Harry, _high_ off it, and he rested his head on the inside of Harry’s thigh, smiling dazedly up at him.

“Knew you could do it, baby…told you you could take all of me,” Harry whispered down at Louis.

Louis beamed, and Harry’s eyes turned soft.

“Think you can do something else for me?”  When Louis nodded emphatically, Harry made his request.  “Go to the chair over there where my bag is.  Unzip the pocket on the very left and bring what’s in it over here to me.”

Louis smiled, happy to be of use.  “’Kay.”

Louis walked slowly to the corner of the room where the chair was, trying to give Harry a good, long view of his arse, knowing very well how attractively it moved when he walked.  Though Zayn was currently grinding on top of Liam next to him, all Harry looked at was Louis.  The view of Louis trumped anything else in the world as far as Harry was concerned.  Louis didn’t even bend his knees as he shuffled through Harry’s bag, just stuck his arse out and leaned his upper-body forward, and Harry narrowed his eyes as Louis’ arsehole came into view.  _The little minx._

When he came back with the bottle Harry had asked for, Louis stood in front of Harry with it proudly displayed in his hand.

“Come here,” Harry said lightly, leaning back against the couch cushions and beckoning Louis forward with a finger.  Louis straddled Harry then, sat on his strong thighs and sighed in happiness when his cock touched Harry’s.  Harry wordlessly coated his fingers and slid the bottle in Liam’s direction in case he’d need it.  With his clean hand, he held Louis’ back and pulled him down for a kiss.

 _There_ was the mouth that Louis was used to, those large, wet lips that conquered his own despite being _underneath_ Louis.  Louis struggled to keep still.  He wanted to rub all over Harry—fuck, Harry was _so_ damn hard right now; he _knew_ Harry wanted it, too—but he just whimpered and breathed harder to keep his hips still.  He gripped Harry’s shoulders, opening his mouth to Harry’s warm, invading tongue, and moaned deeply into Harry’s mouth, his vocal chords broken.

Harry’s dry fingers tickled along Louis’ waist and tummy, up the little line of hair there until finding a nipple to rub.  Harry used his index finger and thumb to gently tweak Louis’ nipple, and the touch was so light that Louis almost thought he was imagining it.  He wasn’t imagining the sensation it gave him, however—the little pin-pricks of pleasure that made him want to thrust forward even more—and his mouth detached from Harry’s in a soundless moan.  Harry captured Louis’ bottom lip with his teeth, nipping and sucking and pulling the blood to the surface until true noises began to leave Louis’ throat.

Liam took the bottle that Harry pushed to him and coated his and Zayn’s cocks with it.  With his one large hand, he held both erections together and stroked up and down while he and Zayn kissed.

“Liam,” Zayn whispered.  “ _Liam_ , fuck…”

“Don’t come yet,” Liam ordered lowly.  “I want to be in you when you come.”

“ _Liam_ ,” Zayn repeated, upset now.

Louis knew the feeling.  Louis _really_ wanted Harry’s fingers inside him.  He didn’t know if he was meant to be patient until Harry was ready for that or if Harry _wanted_ Louis to be the one to ask since Harry seemed to be in a sinister mood.  Harry’s fingers were already coated, though, so Louis went ahead and voiced his desire.

“Please,” Louis asked, reaching out for Harry’s glazed fingers that were lying motionless next to Louis’ knee.  “Fill me up, Harry… _please_ …”

“You think you deserve ‘em?” Harry asked quietly, still brushing Louis’ nipple with the thumb of his other hand.

“I do,” Louis nodded frantically.  “I did a good job, right?  Didn’t I?”

“You did a _very_ good job, baby,” Harry agreed.  He moved his wet fingers to touch Louis’ hole then, just the outside, around and around.  Louis leaned forward and rested his cheek on Harry’s chest, curling his body atop Harry’s and whimpering.  “You can’t move, though.  Not at all,” Harry said.  “If you do, you’ll be in trouble.”

Louis frowned but nodded against Harry’s skin.

“Say you understand.”

“Okay,” Louis said.  “I understand.  I can’t move.  Not at all.”

Harry dipped his index finger in straightaway then, pushing through the tightness and warming his finger up past the second knuckle.  Louis just gasped and mouthed at Harry’s skin.

Harry kept his finger locked inside Louis for some time, and he just kissed Louis’ soft, sweet-smelling hair while he waited for Louis to break.  When the little whimpering noises came from Louis, Harry moved his finger in and out, adding another once he felt Louis start to relax more.

Louis squeezed his eyes shut and just focused on the sensation of Harry’s fingers sliding in and out of his arse.  How could it be that Harry did this _every time_ they had sex but that it still felt so _new_ , so fucking pleasurable no matter what?

“Can I please move?” Louis asked against Harry’s lips after a long time had passed.  “Please? _Please_ please please?”

Harry’s pupils were blown, his eyes droopy again, and he licked his lips before nodding.  “Yeah, show me how good you can do it.”

Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck then as he began to lift his hips up to match the tiny in-and-out movements of Harry’s fingers.

“Oh, God,” Louis immediately said, backing up his upper body so he was sitting more vertically on Harry’s lap.  Harry had told him he could move, so he took advantage of that and moved _quickly_ , moaning loudly when Harry’s fingers pushed up while his own hips grinded down.  He could feel himself opening and stretching on Harry’s fingers with every single shove, and though he knew he wouldn’t come from this, he was turned on to the point of madness knowing how _good_ it was going to feel once Harry's cock penetrated him.

Louis turned his head and saw Zayn on his hands and knees in front of Liam, Liam sticking his thumb in and out Zayn’s glistening arsehole.  Zayn barely had any room in front of him because of the table there, but his tiny body seemed comfortable in the position he was contorted in.

“Give me more,” Zayn told Liam.  “I want more.”

“Know you want more,” Liam said lightly, “but you’re just gonna have to take what I give you, babe.”

Zayn groaned.  “Why are you being so mean to me,” he grumbled.

Liam paused his movements.  “I could take the thumb out then if that’s how you feel?”

Harry had to look at Liam then and smile despite him wanting to keep it to himself.

Louis saw Liam switch to his index and middle fingers then, just like Harry, and he watched, hypnotized, as Zayn fucked himself on Liam’s fingers.  Liam didn’t even move his hand, not really; Zayn was the one doing all the work.  Louis moaned and quickened the pace of his hips, some high noise escaping from his mouth when he felt the burn of a third finger sometime later.

Maybe _that_ was why this whole thing was so hot for Louis—the fact that Zayn could do all the things that Louis couldn’t, that he could talk to Liam like that, so demanding.  It was almost like Louis could live _through_ Zayn, be utterly naughty like he was.  But he much preferred rules, having Harry give him restrictions and consequences.  He couldn’t explain it, not really.  It was just hot seeing Zayn be bad.

Louis turned his head back to Harry then, his open mouth meeting Harry’s deep red lips and moving against them.  Louis sat all the way down, then, matched his cock to Harry’s, and grinded deeply on Harry’s three thick fingers.  Harry reached between their bodies and roughly pinched Louis’ nipple, painfully pulling his fingers out at the same time.  Louis still grinded through the loss, finding friction from Harry’s cock.

“Stop moving,” Harry commanded, and Louis made a frustrated, desperate noise as he forced himself to stop.

Harry moved Louis’ legs and shifted him awkwardly until he turned around completely on Harry’s lap, his back to Harry’s front.

“Prop yourself up a bit for me,” he told Louis.  Louis’ heart raced, and he did as ordered, moaning loudly to show Harry how good it felt when Harry surprisingly pushed his dick inside him and pulled Louis back down to firmly sit.  _Fuck_.  “You said you wanted to move,” Harry said, his sweet tone changing into something more raw.  “So move.”

“O-okay,” Louis replied, starting to circle his hips as he watched Zayn stand up and nestle himself back onto Liam’s lap in the same position.

“Oh, you can do better than that,” Harry said as he tightly clawed at Louis’ thighs.

"Yeah," Louis breathed out, using his hands resting on Harry's legs to help repeatedly lift himself up until he fell into an easy rhythm.  Eventually, he lost himself, just focusing on impaling himself again and again on the straight pole that was Harry's cock, and sweat fell from his hair.

"God, I love your dick," Louis said, wishing he was able to see it.  Just _feeling_ it, though--"Fuck, it's so good, so fucking big--"

Harry stared at Louis' gloriously moving body and reached out to hold onto the globes of his arse, kneading and spreading the skin, seeing just how much his dick made Louis' muscle there stretch.  He was overcome with the urge to reach out his tongue and taste Louis, but it was impossible, so he clenched his teeth.

"Your fucking _arse,_ Louis, God..."

Louis continued bouncing, and beside him, Zayn moved similarly filthily while Liam firmly held his hips, helping push him down and lift him up.

"Yeah, baby, fuck yourself on me, yeah," Liam hissed.  "Don't stop..."  Zayn continued moaning incessantly--pleasurable moans, overwhelmed moans, _exhuasted_ moans.

Zayn fell back into Liam, and Liam began thrusting up into him.  Zayn put his left hand beside him, palm up, signaling for Louis to hold it.  Louis reached out and took Zayn’s hand, entwining fingers with him immediately.  The motion altered Louis' pace, made him sit down more heavily on Harry, and Louis began moving slower, more deep.   _"Ah..."_

“Touch yourself, Lou,” Zayn panted, screwing up his face in pleasure while he helped himself along with his other hand.

“No,” came Harry’s voice from behind, answering for Louis.  Louis just looked down at his flapping cock, smirking at how possessive Harry probably felt at having _Zayn_ tell Louis what to do, however innocent his intentions were.  Louis turned his head back and smashed his lips into Harry’s, lifting his free hand up to cart through Harry’s sweaty curls.

“You gonna come again, baby?” Harry asked hotly into Louis’ mouth.

“ _Fuck_ , yeah,” Louis answered sharply, grinding greedily on Harry’s lap, chasing his orgasm.  “If you say I can,” he whispered so only Harry could hear.

Harry grunted loudly, wrapping his arms around Louis’ body and biting the sweaty skin of Louis’ back as he thrust up into him.  Louis’ coordination was off now, his free-hand unable to hold Harry’s leg and help lift himself up and down, so Harry gladly took over and began harshly pushing his dick up inside Louis’ arse.

"Yeah, you gonna wait for me to tell you to come, aren't you, baby?" Harry asked.  "Gonna be good?"

 _"Yeah,_ Harry," Louis answered, squeezing tighter on Zayn's hand.

“Liam!” Zayn called out, briskly pumping his hand up and down his own cock as his hips furiously rocked back and forth, “ _Liam_ , I’m gonna come, you’re gonna fuckin’ make me _come_ …your _cock_ …”

Liam grunted behind Zayn, clutching Zayn’s hips harder and chanting _“Come for me, fucking come for me, baby,”_ and Zayn _did_ , moaning beautifully as he spilt out all over his own hand.  His body shook, and Liam struggled to keep Zayn still as he groaned and bit his lip, releasing himself into Zayn’s arsehole.  Louis watched it all desperately, feeling a familiar ache in his stomach that had him warning Harry he was about to explode, too.

“ _Harry_ , can I?  I’m gonna—” was all Louis could get out before his cock unexpectantly released another load all over his legs, his stomach, the sofa, _Zayn_. 

Harry immediately furrowed his eyebrows and pushed Louis’ body forward a bit, ripping Louis' hand away from Zayn, giving himself a better view of Louis’ perfectly round arse.  He pulled Louis’ hips backwards as his own hips moved hurriedly forwards, faster than he thought was possible.  Forgetting Liam and Zayn were beside him, he said over the loud sound of his fucking, “Fucking came without my permission, Lou.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Louis moaned, his hands now gripping the coffee table in front of the sofa, he head between his arms, staring down at the carpet. 

“Said you would wait ‘til I told you to.  Said you'd be good.”

“Sorry,” Louis breathed out again, gritting his teeth against Harry’s onslaught.

Harry slapped his arse loudly, and Louis cried out, both at the sharp pain and at the over-stimulation he was feeling deep inside.  The position wasn’t very comfortable, and Louis’ muscles strained as Harry continued his frantic pace.  _Shit_ , this was a lot to handle after just coming.  _Twice_ , technically.  He had no time to even recover; Harry wasn’t slowing down at all.  If anything, he was moving faster.

“You should know by now what it feels like when you’re about to come, Louis,” Harry said in exertion.  “All you have to do is fucking _ask_ , ‘s not that hard—”

“I _tried_ —”

"Clearly you didn't," Harry groaned.  " _Bad, bad, bad_..."

Harry spanked Louis _again_ and _again_ until Louis had to tightly squeeze his eyes shut to channel everything he was feeling.  His dick hadn’t even gone soft from the pleasure of it all—it was wedged up against his tummy, splotched with cum and hard as ever.

Suddenly, Harry stopped moving, and Louis opened his eyes, his vision tunneled to just what was directly in front of his eyes: the carpet.  He whined.

“Hands and knees,” Harry commanded, and Louis automatically scurried to try to get in the position, but he didn’t know where Harry wanted him facing, so he hesitated.  Harry gripped Louis’ hair and firmly moved him so he was facing left, and Louis let himself be drug around until Harry seemed satisfied.  Louis was tightly wedged in between the sofa and the coffee table now, and his wet, open, pink arsehole was humiliatingly on display for Liam and Zayn. 

Harry didn’t even care anymore.  He wanted them to see.

“Good,” Harry praised, pausing to grab his forgotten beer to his left and take a drink from it.  Something had come over him.  He could normally hide this side of himself from Liam and Zayn, but not anymore.  He had grown tired of useless threats— _“If you come, I’ll…”—_ and decided to just fucking punish Louis for once, in front of an audience or not.  Louis was practically gagging for it, anyway.  He _needed_ it, craved it, had _asked_ for it.

Liam and Zayn were just coming down from their highs as Harry leaned forward on the sofa and put his left hand on Louis’ lower back, using his right hand to again spank Louis.  He slapped Louis’ arse loudly, running his palm gently over the area he'd smacked, then slapped the other cheek.  Harry struck Louis repeatedly in this manner, alternating arsecheeks until Louis’ bum was a brilliant shade of red.

When Harry was content, he told Louis to face the other way, and he scrambled to obey.  Harry had given Liam and Zayn a show of Louis’ arse, and now he wanted them to see Louis’ face as he was fucked again.  Some tiny part inside Harry preened in the knowledge that he wasn’t coveting Louis anymore, that he was _sharing_ him now.  He truly wanted Liam and Zayn to understand Louis’ beauty.  Especially when he was like this.

Harry lowered himself to his knees behind Louis and lined up his cock with Louis’ hole again, immediately fucking into his open arse at a quick pace, backing his hips up until his cockhead was _just_ about to leave, then pummeling back in.

Louis whined constantly, on edge from the spanking and now from how good Harry was fucking him.  Harry reached forward to grip one of Louis’ shoulders, putting the other hand on Louis’ hip to prevent him from moving about so much.  All of Harry’s muscles were tight and clenched as he steadily plowed into Louis, torturing him.  Punishing him.

“Harry,” Louis wailed, trying to transfer the need in his body to his voice.  He didn’t even _know_ what he needed, but surely Harry did.  And surely Harry would give it to him.

It was just the two of them in the room.  They had forgotten that Liam and Zayn were still on the sofa, but Liam and Zayn certainly couldn’t forget Harry and Louis.  Liam hadn’t left Zayn’s arse after he came, and Zayn began circling his hips on top of Liam’s sensitive dick again, getting hard again at watching Harry fuck Louis.

Louis was so close to Zayn that Zayn could reach out and touch him, so he did.  He soothingly ran his fingers through Louis’ hair while grinding against Liam, and Zayn’s mouth dropped open at the moisture he saw pool in Louis’ eyes.  Immediately, he stilled his hips on top of Liam.

“Harry,” Zayn said quickly, dropping his hand,“Harry, he’s…he’s crying, mate.”

Louis desperately reached out to hold onto Zayn’s knee for support.  “I’m—fine,” he gritted out.  Louis looked up at Zayn and tried to convey that he was being honest, that he was _more than fine_ , but his vision had gone blurry, and he wasn’t sure if he was even looking at Zayn's eyes or beyond them.

Upon seeing Louis’ face, Zayn was unsure if he should believe him, but Harry nodded at Zayn to show him that Louis was indeed okay.  He didn’t have it in him to explain that they did this kind of thing _a lot_ and that Louis had a word to use if it became too much.  He probably should have said something about that to Liam and Zayn _before_ instead of just tip-toeing around the topic, but all he could do now was get Louis to admit out loud how good he felt so Zayn wouldn’t be worried anymore.

“Feels so good you have to cry, doesn’t it, sweetheart?” Harry asked softly, sweetly.  Completely contradictory to the movements of his body.

Louis sniffed and nodded.  “ _Yeah_ …”

“Let it out, baby,” Harry cooed.  He moved closer to Louis so he could penetrate him deeper, and he reached forward to remove Louis’ hand from Zayn’s knee out of instinct.  Louis put his hand on the carpet again, immediately having to drop his upper body to rest on his arms out of exhaustion.  His arse was now up in the air, Harry’s for the taking, beautiful shades of pink and red spreading around his skin from his rough spanking.  "It's okay...I'll make you feel so, so good for being so, so bad."

Zayn’s mouth dropped open and his body fell backwards into Liam’s.  “Holy shit,” he whispered in shock.  “That’s so fucking hot.”

Liam again began making little movements up into Zayn, his own cum dripping out from time to time only to be pushed back in.

“You— _shit, you’re hard again, Liam_ —you think you can come again?” Zayn asked in shock, having never seen Liam recover so early after just coming.  He looked down at himself, then, and saw he was almost fully erect again, too.  He'd never been able to come so soon, either, actually...

“Oh, yeah,” Liam whispered.

Zayn looked forward at Louis' shoulders shaking with the force of his sobbing, and he squeezed his eyes shut.  “How do you want me?” he cooed to Liam.

Liam answered by shifting to now lay on the entire expanse of the couch, and he pulled Zayn's body back with him.  Zayn turned around this time, however, Liam's cock never leaving his arse, and began grinding progressively faster as both he and Liam stared at Harry and Louis.

Harry looked possessed.  “Gonna come a third time?”

Louis couldn’t think, just cried out, “ _Yeah_ ,” trying in vain to back up and meet Harry’s thrusts, but honestly, he couldn’t tell if he was moving at all.

 _“When I say you can,”_ Harry clarified.

“ _Yeah_ ,” Louis repeated, moaning, “when you say—I can.”

Harry reached on the sofa by Liam's leg, found the bottle of lube everyone was sharing, and carelessly poured it on the upperside of his cock and down the crack of Louis’ arse, making both of them even more sticky and wet and loud.

All of Louis’ sounds were muffled from where he was shouting them into his arms, into the carpet.  “Shit, shit, shit, _Harry,_ you—arrrgh—”

Harry lifted his hand and struck Louis’ arse one last time before warning Louis he was a second away from  _fucking exploding in his hole,_ and all four boys loudly moaned.  Liam’s pelvis thrust upwards and he held Zayn tightly as he emptied himself completely into Zayn’s arse for the second time, Zayn immediately squirting out everywhere himself.

“Permission!” Louis called out desperately.  “ _Permission_ ,” he whined again.

Harry came immediately upon hearing Louis moan that, but he continued to thrust into Louis to ride out his orgasm.

“Get on your—your hands—get up on your hands again,” Harry told Louis frantically.  Once Louis obeyed, more tears falling, muscles shaking and skin sweaty and fucking _burning_ all over, Harry simply said, “Come.  Come, Louis,” and Louis did, his pleasure-twisted face raised high as his body constricted with Harry molded tightly to him.

 

* * *

 

Harry and Louis excused themselves for a long time.  Harry carried Louis’ limp body upstairs to clean and rub soothing lotion on, and he spoke in low, soothing tones to him all the while.

"You're so bloody gorgeous..."   "You with me yet?"   “Did you like all that, love?”

Louis was hugging a pillow to his body as Harry rubbed cream onto his bum.  He nodded.  “Want it like that every time.”

Harry paused.  “I should probably talk to them, then…I left out a lot of stuff...”

“I can talk, too,” Louis suggested, smiling with his eyes closed.

“Know you can, baby.”  Harry stared at Louis’ backside for a moment longer and said remorsefully, “I’ll have left bruises there.  Does it hurt?”

“I like it,” was Louis’ reply.

“Can you walk?”  Louis nodded.  “Let’s go downstairs then.  Just for a bit.  Then we’ll go to bed.”  Louis nodded again.  Harry chuckled.  “Get up.”

Louis begrudgingly swung his legs over the bed.  “You try coming three times and getting spanked to the point of tears and see if _you_ feel like doing anything.”

Harry grinned.  “All you had to do was ask _permissssion_ ,” he sung.  Louis just smiled drunkenly and held out his arms for Harry to dress him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got this out earlier than I thought, but that means that the next chapter is going to take a while (because this one was so freaking long). Thanks for waiting patiently and of course for reading!!! 
> 
> Up next: zouis conversation, more hot hot stuff, and ______?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Louis explain their relationship a little bit more to Liam and Zayn, and Harry's jealousy is beginning to truly recede as everyone again enjoys another night of togetherness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags that Apply: Voyuerism, Exhibitionism, Oral Sex, Rimming, Barebacking, Group Sex, Spanking, Butt Plugs, Ass Play, Subspace, Multiple Orgasms, Light BDSM, Snowballing

Zayn was the best friend ever.  Like, ever.  He had literally just witnessed Louis _cry_ during sex, and now they were outside on the balcony chilling together like everything was normal.

Louis sat weirdly on his chair, his bum kind of sore, and looked over at Zayn.  They’d been silent for a long time, smoking cigarettes and reflecting on what had just happened between everyone, but Zayn had just cleared his throat like he was about to speak.

“What exactly—if you don’t mind me asking,” Zayn finally started, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray between his and Louis’ chairs, “—what exactly is up with you two?” he asked, signaling with his head to Harry, who was inside talking with Liam. “Like, your…arrangement.  I just…want to understand better, like.”

He wasn’t going to say that he was actually curious because maybe he was interested in trying stuff out with Liam in the future.  _Maybe_.  He and Liam _had_ just come two times in a row from watching Harry and Louis together, after all.  Their dynamics were ridiculous, and Zayn just wanted to know more...

“Er, well,” Louis began.  He really did need to clarify some things with Zayn.  “Harry tried to explain it a bit the other day.  It’s…like amateur Dom/sub stuff?  He’s in control, and I do what he tells me to.”

“So, you two basically have your own set of rules together,” Zayn guessed.

“In bed, yeah,” Louis clarified.  “But sometimes Doms go quite far with it...pick out clothes and tell subs what to do _all_ the time.  Harry doesn’t do that.  It’d probably be a lost cause if he tried.”

Zayn smiled in agreement.  “Like what kinds of rules do you have in bed, then?”

Louis picked at the hem of Harry’s jumper he was wearing.  “There aren’t even very many.  Just, like, to wait for him to tell me to do something before I do it.  He says I’m too impatient,” Louis said with a smile.  “And I can’t touch myself or come without permission—those are huge.”

“Yeah, I noticed…So he spanks you if you do?”

“Or some other punishment.”  Louis shrugged but then chuckled.  “Unless he doesn’t feel like enforcing the rules.”  That happened quite often, actually. 

“Punishment,” Zayn repeated aloud.  “That word just sounds _extreme,_ man…”

“It’s not, not really.  Half the time it’s stuff I already like.”

“Like…”

Louis counted off on his fingers.  “ _Like_...sucking his cock, overstimulation, spanking…stuff like that.”

“So, to clarify…you _like_ getting spanked?”

“Fuck _yeah_ , I like getting spanked,” Louis answered emphatically.  “I love it.”

“But… earlier…You cried, though...”

Louis looked a little embarrassed.  “Yeah…Er, that’s hard to explain, too…  Crying is just like a…a _release_ , I guess.  It’s not a bad thing.”

Zayn made a small noise of understanding and then pulled a baggie out of his pocket, dropping it on his lap with a little crinkling sound. “You want some?” he asked.

After seeing what Zayn was referring to, Louis shook his head.  “I sort of feel high already,” he answered, letting his glazed eyes reflect that.

“So,” Zayn continued, quickly breaking up the weed on the rolling paper on his lap, “what happens if he tells you to do something but you really don’t want to?  Still get punished?”

Louis took a moment to answer that.  “I normally always want to do what Harry wants, even if I don’t _want_ to do it.  That probably makes no sense though,” he muttered.

“I kind of get it,” Zayn said as he licked his thumb and used the saliva to seal the joint.  “Like you like making him happy.  I like making Liam happy.”

“Yeah,” Louis nodded.  “But if I _really_ don’t want to do something—like if I’m one-hundred percent against it—then I’d just tell him before we jumped into it because he wouldn’t just introduce something new without talking me ear off for hours about it anyway.  Same with punishments.  And besides, if I _think_ I’m okay with something and it ends up becoming too much, I have my safe-word, so it’s fine.”

Zayn was semi-familiar with what that was.  He read a lot.  “Have you ever had to use it?”  He put the stick to his mouth and sparked his lighter.

“Just once.”  Louis remembered it and laughed.  “It was so not a big deal, though.  You wanna hear the story anyway?”

“Yeah,” Zayn said out the side of his mouth.

Louis eyed the joint hungrily, knowing he probably needed to tone down his sudden hyper-activity before bed.  His endorphins were running a bit too wild at the moment, but he knew his favorite drug was just beyond the patio doors, sitting on the sofa with Liam and probably having this same conversation.  So he held off.

“So it was quite stupid, actually.  We were at this god-awful hotel in Canada—you know the night.  The night you and Liam’s room was so cold?  Anyway, Harry had me on the floor on my hands and knees, because the beds were falling apart, like.  And there was this stupid old carpet on the floor that fucking _sucked_.  It was rough and scratchy and it just sucked.  I couldn’t handle it.  Like I could feel my knees opening up and blistering, and it fucking _hurt_.  So yeah…That’s my story,” Louis concluded sheepishly.  He left out the part where Niall was sleeping next to them and that he and Harry were just trying to be sneaky.  It hadn’t ended well.

“So let me get this straight,” Zayn said, his voice scratchy, “you get spanked to the point of _crying_ and love it, but _rug burn_ makes you safe-word out?”

“Spanking feels _good_ , though!” Louis proclaimed.  “You should get Liam to do it to you.  Then you’ll see.  And, excuse me, Zayn, have you ever _had_ rug burn?  It’s not whatsoever pleasant, so you can kiss my arse.”

“Consider it kissed,” Zayn haughtily said as he exhaled a cloud of thick smoke. “So what’d you say the other punishments were?  Besides spanking?”

“Depends on what I do.  They have to fit the crime, as they say.  Most of the time it’s because I come without permission.  I do that a lot.”  Zayn was still waiting for a real answer, just looking over at Louis while sucking hard on the joint.  Louis swallowed at the fucking _force_ Zayn’s mouth was.  He continued in distraction, “So, let’s see…eh…sometimes I have to stand in the corner while he wanks, that one sucks… or he’ll put a cock-ring on me because I can’t come even if I want to with it on.  I fucking hate it—”

Zayn coughed a bit before asking, “But if you’ve already come, then what’s it matter?”

“Oh, I usually come twice every time.  That’s like, the norm.”

Zayn’s eyebrows raised, but he didn’t comment.  “So why _do_ you go along with the punishment thing?  If technically you don’t have to go along with any of it, you said.”

Louis shrugged.  “Because I like it.”

“Oh.”  Zayn blinked. That was simple.  He was nice and buzzed now, relaxed and melting into the chair, and he wanted Liam to be beside him, taking notes on this.  He wouldn’t remember it all, probably.  “You like…standing in the corner?”

“I like…”  Louis knew what he was about to admit was going to sound weird.  “I like the humiliation part of it.  Like, knowing that I’ve been bad and that I’m in trouble for it… Knowing that there are explicit rules that I’ve disobeyed and that he’s noticed...And then knowing I’ve been good and getting rewarded for it, too.  I like all of it,” he trailed off.  “Mostly I try to be good for Harry, but…”  He shrugged and looked at Zayn, who was just silently looking back at him.

“Oh.”

Louis pulled a face.  “I see you over there, all glassy eyes and cool face, but you think I’m absolutely mad, don’t you,” he said.

“No, no, I don’t,” Zayn said, shaking his head and waving away smoke that was in his face.  “Honest, I don’t.  Sorry for the question-overload.  I just—”

“It’s all good.”  Louis smiled, knowing Zayn was open to all of what he’d just confessed.  “’s nice to talk to someone about it for once, actually.”

“The infamous _Zayn and Louis Balcony Talks_ ,” Zayn said, finally stretching his arms above his head and yawning loudly.  “We should make them a thing.”

“We can just add it to the amount of _things_ we already have going on, yeah?”

 

* * *

 

Inside the house, as Louis could have guessed, Harry was explaining some things to Liam.  But mostly just apologizing for springing that scene on them without any warning.

“It’s difficult, though, because sometimes I make the decision to do things that I think he needs—that I know he and I’ve already discussed—but then there’s no time to talk to you two about it.  So I’m glad I’ve cleared it up a bit, what you can expect in the future and stuff…”

“Yeah,” Liam said, “but really, mate, no need to apologize.  I can’t tell you how much we…liked that.”  He and Harry were drinking their last beer, going back and forth between talking and watching their boyfriends on the patio. “I like watching you,” Liam said, lightly nudging Harry’s knee with his own. 

Harry curiously side-eyed Liam and tried not to let his face get too hot.  As the youngest, he naturally looked up to everybody, and to hear Liam compliment him…well, it was nice.  Plus there was the way Liam was looking at him like he was a sex-god or something, and that.  That was just.

“Coming twice is basically unheard of for me and him, you know?  ‘S never happened.  And, it’s interesting, right, because I’ve been getting this vibe from Zayn that he wants me to treat him—talk to him at least—like you do to Louis.  And Jesus.  It’s just.  It’s hot, is all,” Liam finished.

“I’d have to agree.”

 

* * *

 

Louis ran to his room the second the entrance door was opened, Harry in fast pursuit.  They had just gotten back from a photoshoot for some magazine Louis couldn’t remember the name of, and their hair was all done up, their faces were flawless, and they were feeding off each other’s good mood.

Louis squealed as Harry grabbed his calf going up the stairs, but he got away and made it to their bedroom first, belly-flopping onto their bed.  He lay on his stomach and smiled at the comfortable feeling of the duvet against his bare skin.  Glancing over his shoulder, Louis giggled lightly at Harry and squirmed as the bed dipped with his new weight.  Harry chuckled along with Louis and tickled the sides of his stomach, smiling widely when Louis tightly clenched his body and tried to wriggle out of Harry’s hold.  This was playful.  It was nice.

Harry had had a plan in mind all week, a right sadistic plan if he was honest with himself, and since Louis was in such a delightful mood today, he thought it would be the perfect night to follow through with it.  Eventually, when Louis’ laughter receded, Harry reached around Louis’ hips to fumble with the button of his jeans, opening and shucking them, along with his briefs, down over the bump of Louis’ arse without preamble.

The air felt nice against Louis’ bare skin, and so did the sudden sensation of Harry’s lips softly kissing there.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” Louis commented pleasantly as Harry’s fingers began sweeping along the inner parts of his thighs, still leaving little prickling sensations as Louis was still overly-sensitive from getting tickled just moments ago.

Harry’s hand reached Louis’ arse crack, and he trailed a finger along it.  “Pleasant surprise, yeah?”

Louis smiled and grabbed a pillow to hold onto, his heart rate confused about whether to slow down or keep beating fast.  “Yeah,” he replied happily.

Harry stretched his body to grab the bottle of lube on his nightstand, and all the lightheartedness of the mood was abruptly pushed aside, replaced with something heavier as Harry breached Louis’ arse with one long finger.

“Jesus, you don’t waste any time, do you,” Louis groaned, but he loved it.  He melted onto the bedspread and subconsciously inched his legs a bit wider, even lifted his hips up a tad to give Harry a better view of his little hole.  They hadn’t messed around in about a week and a half (well, _five days_ if you counted the shower sex from a few days ago, but, since it was a complete disaster, Louis definitely didn’t), and Louis was reveling in it now.

Harry watched his own finger gradually enter Louis, and he dragged it out at the same syrupy-slow pace again and again, listening for Louis to grow impatient.  A few moments later, he added his middle finger and continued to leisurely finger Louis, no real goal in mind, no objective to make Louis come.  When Louis was softly sighing into the pillow, Harry removed his fingers completely and wordlessly glided to the closet.

Louis, whose eyes had been closed, glanced behind him and bit his lip in excitement when he saw Harry return with The Shoebox in his hands.  Harry gently placed the box on the bed and crawled back in between Louis’ widespread legs, staring at Louis’ glistening rim and growing hard at what he planned to do to it.

Harry signaled for Louis to turn his head around again with a quick twirl of his index finger, and Louis complied immediately, going so far as to tightly close his eyes.  _Yes, yes, yes_.  Louis didn’t know what he did to deserve this, but shit, he was about to feel fucking _fabulous_ in a minute.  His small fingers squeezed the pillow in anticipation as Harry inched something hard and cold in between his arse cheeks, and a shaky sigh escaped his lips.

Louis moaned lightly at the prodding of the toy against his rim, soon gasping as he realized quickly that whatever Harry was slowly pushing inside him was steadily _swelling_ , steadily stretching him out more and more and more.  He was familiar with the sensation, but…but… _why was Harry plugging him?_ He had hoped he was going to get a _vibrator_ (his favorite), maybe even one of his dildos would’ve be nice, but—

—But— _oh_ —that _definitely_ didn’t feel like the butt plug that Louis was accustomed to, the latex one that Harry sometimes used after coming inside him to keep anything from leaking out.  _This_ object was hard, hard and unforgiving, and Louis’ eyes bulged widely to match the bulging he felt in his arse.

Louis remained rather silent as Harry pushed the new plug (a relatively small, aluminum one, slightly ribbed at the shaft, that Harry had just recently purchased and was so, _so_ excited to finally be using) all the way inside his entrance.  He took a few moments to breathe through the feeling of being stretched so widely from the bulbous feel of it, twisting his hips a bit because he was dying to know what it looked like, how big it was, when Harry had gotten it, _everything_.  Louis had a dozen questions but knew he should only focus on _feeling_ , so he did.  He focused on how _full_ he was, how the cold object was no longer cold at finding warmth inside his arse, how he could feel Harry’s body heat blanketing his bare skin, how Harry’s fingers were steady and firm in between his legs…

Until suddenly, he felt nothing at all anymore.  No more pressure, no more warmth from behind him, no more Harry.

Louis’ brain snapped to attention, and he opened his eyes.  Before he could turn his head to curiously look at Harry, however, Harry reached forward and pulled Louis’ pants and jeans up together—up his legs and over his bum, redressing him.

This time, Louis did turn his head around.  “Wh—Huh?  What are you—”

“We’ve got that radio thing in just a half hour, remember?” Harry said simply, lightly tapping the back of Louis’ leg and scooting off the bed.

Louis’ lips moved about uselessly, searching for some explanation, some answer as to what on earth Harry was talking about.

“The radio thing,” Harry repeated.  “ _In_ …Hampstead, maybe?” he asked himself, like Louis wasn’t struggling with a life-or-death situation right now.  Like Louis wasn’t suddenly _dying_.  “Don’t recall where it is, actually.  But I know how to get there.  We’ve been there before.  Anyway, we’ve got to sing the new single and then we’ve got an interview after.  Easy peasy.”

Louis grimaced as he pushed his body up, leaving his jeans unzipped.  “What the bloody hell are you rambling on about?”

Harry chuckled.  “We’ve got to go in—” he checked his watch—“fifteen minutes now.”

“We’ve just got back here!  You’re fucking joking.”

“I am not.”

“Fucking _shit_ ,” Louis groaned, letting his body fall down against the mattress.  “Live?”

Harry shook his head.  That made Louis feel a little better.

“And I’m—“ Louis gesticulated his hands wildly around his groin, “—I’m meant to keep this in all evening, then, yeah?  That’s what you’d like me to do?”

Harry did a shitty job of hiding his smirk.  “I would love it _terribly_ if you wanted to do that, yeah.”

Louis turned his face to stone and re-did his jeans, his face contorting when he stood up and felt the toy—it must be quite large; it felt _huge_ —move about inside him.  His eyes conveyed some sort of desperation to please Harry when he dropped all attitude and said, “Guess we should go on then…”

Harry smiled and took Louis’ hand, his slightly cruel desires matching perfectly with Louis’ inclination to receive pleasure from pain.  Regardless, he knew he was being a little mean, so he promised, “I will absolutely rock your world later on tonight, baby.”

Everybody but Zayn was at the radio station already when Louis and Harry stepped out of the lift, but Zayn appeared shortly afterwards, breathing heavily since he’d taken the stairs two-at-a-time.

“I’m not late!” Zayn said happily, looking at his watch and wiggling his hips in a victory move.  “Shit, thought I was late…”

“You’re not late!” Liam repeated just as cheerfully.

“You’re not late,” Niall said merrily, pointing to Zayn, “you’re not late,” Niall pointed to Liam, “you’re not late, and you’re not late!” he finished, pointing to Louis and Harry.

Harry opened his arms widely.  “We’re not laaaaate,” he sang.

“We are so not late,” Zayn said in a girly voice.

“Nooooot latttttteeee,” Liam sang deeply.

Niall started a stupid rap.  “Not late, not late, nobody is late, I think it is great, could this be fate?”

“Who’s got time to wait?” Liam chimed in.

Zayn answered, “Not me, mate.”

Everyone was laughing, and Louis was confused.  He couldn’t concentrate.  He was quickly growing disoriented with reality, only feeling the hardness of the toy inside him and the hardness of his dick in his jeans and the hardness of Harry’s eyes as they bore through him since he wasn’t smiling along with everyone else.  He took a deep breath and tried to act normal.  “Well, I’m never fucking late, so I don’t know why you’re all looking at me.”

They all laughed at him and dispersed to various parts of the room, checking out everything that was laid out for them.  Radio stations always gave them free stuff.  Like they needed it, but still.  It was fun to look at.

Harry walked ahead of Louis to the stools set out for them, silently modeling for Louis where he was meant to go, and Louis sat uncomfortably for what felt like forever until the rest of the band sporadically joined him.

Once the first part of the session was through (pretty easy questions that actually pertained to their music, some singing), Louis slid his body off of the stool and stood still with his muddled thoughts.  Psychologically, he was slipping.  His eyes fell downwards already, and, not being used to feeling so _full_ outside of sex, so consistently sore yet terribly _hard_ , he struggled to function as he shuffled to the side of the room where he saw a comfortable-looking chair.

“Hey,” Harry said, casually putting his hand on Louis’ lower back, “all right?”

Louis nodded, the motion making his head feel heavy, and, knowing they were in a room full of people and that he couldn’t do much else, he kept walking.

He slouched on the nearby chair, his head automatically relaxing on the armrest as if asleep.  And really, he _could_ be asleep; it had taken him every fucking bit of life he had inside himself to hold the chorus of the song they’d just sung, to try to feign attentiveness for so long.  Now that everyone had some downtime until the next interviewer came in, he was definitely taking the opportunity to rest his body and mind.

It was hard.  He was hard.  He knew he wouldn’t be able to cope with the constant pleasure and discomfort in his body unless he used some type of mechanism to trick his body into thinking he was somewhere else, so he did.  He drifted off to another place.

He closed his eyes, and suddenly, he was back home, sprawled face-down on the bed again.  The plug fit snugly inside him still, but this time Harry was there to attend to his every need; Louis could even feel Harry’s body heat next to him if he tried hard enough.  Harry was running his hands up and down Louis’ body, whispering in the low, deep way that always got Louis’ blood running hot, and then, suddenly, Harry was striking him.

Louis could _feel_ it, _feel_ Harry’s palm, feel whatever hard object was in Harry’s hand paddle repeatedly against his backside, telling him to _take it_ , and in real life, Louis squirmed on the chair and lightly whimpered.  He clenched his arse at the imaginary spanking happening in his mind, and he pulled a face at the way he felt the toy rub against the walls of his arse, prodding against his prostate in anguish.

He could literally feel his bum begin to burn just from his quiet fantasizing, and it made the sensation from the plug seem to intensify.  It was now all Louis could think about, all he could feel— _slap, slap, slap_ —and his breaths began to come out in shudders.  He was almost positive he was beginning to sweat.

Across the room by the fruit bowls, Niall was watching Louis with a mixture of concern and interest.  “What’s up with him, then?” Niall asked Harry, nudging him with his elbow.  “He high or something?”

Zayn was quick to chime in, “If he’s been smoking without me—”

“—He’s not come to an interview _high_ , lads,” Harry interrupted, wanting to sigh.  “Think he’s just got a headache.”

Niall looked sympathetic while Zayn looked worried.  Harry knew he was probably concerned about the plan for him and Liam to visit after the interview, so Harry was quick to nonchalantly add, “He’ll be fine,” catching Zayn’s eye and mouthing, “I’ll tell you later.”

Harry watched Louis for a few moments more, and when he literally started twitching in his seat, Harry mechanically walked to him.  Crouching down beside Louis, Harry was quick to examine his face, trying to see if this was too much for him.

“ _Louis_ ,” Harry said.  “I’ve been saying your name for over a minute now.”

Louis’ head was thick, and he kept it resting on the chair while he blinked his eyes open.  Harry’s blurry form appeared beside him, and Louis smiled softly without showing his teeth.  He was so unfulfilled.  But Harry was here now.

“Where are you, baby?” Harry asked quietly, taking in Louis’ open and vacant eyes.  Eyes blown wide.  Eyes unfocused.

“Gone,” Louis whispered.

“I see that,” Harry noted softly, dying to run his hands through Louis’ hair and so, _so_ much more.  He settled with admiring Louis silently, his eyes dark at Louis’ current state.  Harry recognized immediately what he was witnessing: what Harry liked to call “Louis being fucked-out” and what the books liked to call “subspace.”  Or at least the beginnings of subspace.

Whatever name it went by, it was unique to Louis—he had once said it was like being high but better, like floating and free-falling at the same time—and he was definitely checking out of reality.  Harry’d never seen Louis this far gone without even being in the middle of a scene of some sort, but technically, this _was_ a scene, Harry realized.  The wheels in his head turned as he thought about how to respond to Louis; he knew he had to quickly adjust himself to Louis’ disposition and be more firm.

Louis’ vision was still indistinct when he reached a hand out in a slow and failed attempt to touch Harry.

“Get up, Louis,” Harry said.  “I need you to walk around a bit.”

Louis just continued looking at Harry.  Forgetting they were in a room full of people, he leaned forward to kiss Harry, but Harry had to quickly divert his head.  Harry made the split-second decision to go ahead and follow through with the second part of his plan for the night and reached for Louis’ hand, heaving him up.

“Come with me.  I’m pulling you up now.”

After sitting motionless for so long, Louis couldn’t walk properly once upright, and he let Harry lead him blindly through another room, down a hallway, and finally into a closet of some sort, his weak legs practically useless.

Harry immediately shut the door, and though he could hardly see in the shadowy closet, he lowered his lips to meet Louis’ and kissed him deeply.  Louis stood feebly, arms dangling by his sides until weakly grasping at Harry’s shirt, and he whimpered into Harry’s mouth as Harry’s fingers dug into the back of his head, pulling him in closer.

Louis lost himself even more in the dark space they confined in—it was just him and Harry, that’s all it _ever_ was, just him and Harry—and he barely moved his tongue or lips in response to Harry, only tilted his head up and let Harry continue to steal his breath away.

Suddenly, Harry tore his mouth from Louis and breathed heavily into the air they were sharing.  Louis immediately fell to his knees and pressed his cheek to the front of Harry’s jeans, caressing the material with his face and deeply inhaling Harry’s scent while holding onto Harry’s arse desperately.

Harry groaned.  “Get up,” he said, tapping Louis on the head.  Louis opened his mouth and hotly breathed onto Harry’s crotch, mouthing at what he knew to be Harry’s cock behind all the fabric there, and Harry’s voice grew firm.  “ _Louis_ , stand _up_.”

“ _No_ ,” Louis whined.

Harry put his hands under Louis’ armpits and forcefully tugged him upwards.

“Oof!” Louis let out, stumbling in the dark and leaning all of his weight forward on his boyfriend.  He squirmed to shift the plug inside himself, and his eyes grew wide when it touched his prostate again. “ _Harry_.”

“Don’t tell me no,” Harry demanded, effectively silencing Louis.  “It’s not a suggestion.  You need to listen to what I tell you to do.  The first time I tell you.  Is that clear?”

“Sorry,” Louis said apologetically, dying to please Harry, feeling bad for making him use his stern voice on him.

“Is that clear?” Harry repeated.

“Yes,” Louis nodded his head.  “Yes, it’s clear.  Listen.  First time.”  Louis still reached blindly in front of him, however, palming Harry’s tight jeans until Harry slapped his hand away.

“We’re not doing anything until we’re home.”

Louis groaned agonizingly.  “Then why did you—but why—bring me in here—wh- _why_ —?”

Harry lowered his hands to the small of Louis’ back and rubbed small circles there.  “Thought it would help a little bit to be alone together.”

Louis suddenly broke.  “No, you didn’t,” he moaned as his face fell onto Harry’s chest.  “You just wanted to be _mean_ , Harry, and I _need you_ —it hurts _so bad_ —“

“You think I’m trying to be mean?” Harry asked darkly, firmly holding onto Louis now. 

That silenced Louis.  Harry felt him shake his head against his chest.  Harry knew he was feeling too much right now and was tangled up with what to think.

“You think I don’t want you right now as much as you want me?” When Louis still didn’t respond, Harry was about to press, but— _“Are you crying?”_

“No,” Louis sniffed. 

“ _Baby_ ,” Harry said softer, leaning back a bit to see the bit of Louis’ face that the sliver of light coming in from the bottom of the door allowed.  Which was far too little for Harry’s liking.  He cracked the door open a tad.

Louis still looked to the floor.  “You don’t understand what it’s like, having—having this—feeling like this.  I _need_ you, Harry.”

“I know you do.  But you’re going to be patient, and you’re going to be rewarded for it, aren’t you?  It’s not even an hour more, baby.  And after it’s done, Zayn and Liam are coming over, as well.”

“Don’t _care_ ,” Louis whined, small fists lightly hitting Harry’s chest.  “I don’t _care_ about Zayn and Liam.”

“Aw,” Harry said, rubbing circles on the small of Louis’ back again, “well, that’s not very nice of you to say.”  Harry could almost _hear_ Louis frown at that.  “They care about _you_ , you know.”

“Hmpf.”

“Been asking about you all night,” Harry continued, using his right hand to lift Louis’ chin up.  “Think you’re ill.  Asked if maybe they should come over another night.”

“No!” Louis immediately exclaimed.

“Hmm.  Thought you didn’t care about them?”

“I _do_.  I just want you inside me—instead of this—fucking _thing_.”  Louis fell forward again to hug Harry and burrow his face in Harry’s shirt.

“Hm,” Harry said quietly. “Why don’t you turn around and put your hands on the wall.”

Louis looked confused, but did as Harry asked, only tripping over his feet once.  He felt Harry again pull his jeans and underwear down, and then Harry’s fingers were gingerly tugging at the plug, pulling it out with a nasty sound.  Louis found that he had gotten quite used to the feeling of the thing, and he was a bit sad to have it gone.  He frowned even deeper.  He didn’t know what he wanted.  A minute ago, he wanted it _gone_ , and now he wanted it _back in_ …

He sniffled.  Now Harry had taken it out because he’d been bad and told Harry he was mean and that he didn’t like Liam and Zayn, and now he was going to have to sit through the interview _empty_ , and— _shit_ , then Louis felt another force poke against his loosened rim, and he automatically stuck his arse out further to accommodate it.  Harry was pushing something else—another plug by the feel of it, and _fuck_ , it felt even _larger_ —up into Louis’ arse, and Louis’ breath hitched.  He leaned his cheek to the wall of the closet and stuck his arse out as far as it would go, keening open-mouthed.

Harry tapped on the base of the toy once it was securely inside, and Louis finally let the moan he’d been holding out leave his throat in one long breath.  Shit, knowing Harry had fucking brought another plug all the way here _with him_ … _fuck_.  It was hot.  And this one was huge.  He felt even more stretched out and a little more alert because of that, but still, he was _more_ on edge now because the length of this one constantly jabbed at his insides, teasing his prostate with any little move he made.  It was like the burn of this plug had effectively cleared the edges of his fogged arousal, but the arousal was still _there_ , forcing Louis to succumb to it.

“That should help for the time being.  Fills you up more like you like, yeah?”

“ _Mmmm_.”  Louis quickly realized his manners and graciously said, “Thank you.  Oh, _thank you_ …”

“God,” Harry said, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of Louis with his hands on the wall and arse sticking out, “I’m gonna fuck you so fucking _hard_ tonight.  You have no idea how fucking sexy you look right now.”  Harry roughly squeezed one of Louis’ arse cheeks in his hand and continued lower, “I’m gonna stick my tongue in you first.  You’re already gonna be so fucking open.  Bet my tongue would go. right. in,” he said as he lightly tapped the plug three times to go with his words.

Louis moaned too loudly. “ _Ugnn_ —just, Harry, just fuck me _now_ , no one’ll know—”

“Shh,” Harry chided.  He pulled Louis’ clothes up again and buttoned his jeans for him. “Be patient, and I’ll fuck you when we get home.  You just have to be good.”

“I _have_ been good,” Louis said quietly.  Harry could see him wipe his eyes after his jeans were secure.

“You have,” Harry agreed.  “Keep being good and you’ll get what you want, yeah?  Get my dick?”  Harry stepped in Louis’ space to press his cock against Louis’ bum, showing Louis how hard he was.  Louis just shuddered.

Louis squinted his dilated eyes in the bright light from outside and let Harry lead him back to the other room, focusing on just putting one foot in front of the other, trying not to walk too awkwardly, trying not to let his face give away how gone he was.

“I’ll answer the questions for you the best I can,” Harry consoled as he simultaneously hid the spare plug in an inside pocket of his shirt and unpleasantly adjusted his cock to rest up in the waistband of his underwear, “but try to stay _present_ , okay?  Don’t go anywhere.”

Louis knew Harry was referring to going somewhere _in his mind_ —knew he’d been entirely too close to _completely_ slipping off into the fuzzy subspace of his just now—but Louis thought he could maybe stay with-it long enough that that wouldn’t happen, so he nodded and entered the interview room.  Harry had given him a flannel to tie around his waist to hide the bulge in his pants, but Louis just loosely held it in front of him, hoping that would be enough.

Because Harry thought Louis would be the most comfortable there, he steered Louis to the very right of the couch where he could snuggle into the cushions the best.  He leaned down and whispered into Louis’ ear, “Remember, be a good boy, and I’ll make you come _so_ much, baby.  Fuck you all night.”

Louis heaved in a breath and gripped the sofa cushion beside him.  As he sank into the sofa, his body stretched out in pleasure as Harry’s hot breath tickled his ear.  Such dirty things Harry said to him.  Always such dirty things.

 

* * *

 

Harry’s dick throbbed the entire drive home, and he forcefully concentrated on the lines of the road, the stoplights, the bright colors around him instead of Louis—whimpering, needy, horny, Louis beside him.  Louis had no clue what he had looked like during that interview—how could he have?—but Harry couldn’t stop watching him.  He had to repeatedly dig his fingers into fleshy area of Louis’ neck to get his eyes to open again, and eventually he gave up and just tossed a pillow on Louis’ lap so he could at least hide the distinct outline of his erection.  Maybe then, when the interview was released, people would think Louis was ill and not horribly, painfully aroused.

Louis hadn’t been able to stop thinking about his fantasy from earlier—the vision of Harry spanking him before they even got started with things—and he lolled his head to the side and quietly pled for it.  “Will you spank me first?”

Harry gripped the wheel hard and swallowed.  “What d’you mean?”

“Home,” Louis said slowly.  “At home.  Will you…spank me first?”

“Before we do anything else, you mean?”

Louis nodded, his head still weighing a ton.  He was going to tip over from the heaviness of it.

Harry braked at a stop sign and examined Louis’ soft, innocent face.  “I think you definitely deserve that, yeah.”

Louis’ voice was soft and as light as air.  “Oh, _thank you._ ”

 

* * *

 

All of the boys met outside the house and walked into the kitchen together.  Back at the station, Harry had confessed to Liam and Zayn what was really going on with Louis; this time he wanted them to actually be prepared for the tone of the night.  Now that everyone _knew_ , the air was thick with wordless tension.

Harry poured everyone drinks silently at the kitchen counter.  They stood in a circle and touched drinking glasses together, saying “Cheers” quietly before taking their first drink, Zayn and Louis meeting eyes and smiling lightly around the mouths of their glasses while sipping the liquid inside.  Louis’ brain was operating at such a low-frequency that Harry had just given him water.  He didn’t know how he was even holding up the glass.

“You’ve really gone down, haven’t you?” Harry noted softly, closing in on Louis’ space.

Louis looked up at Harry and answered lightly, “Yeah.”

Harry had never seen Louis quite like this before.  Even when they did some of their more extreme playing, something would be different…Louis would still be Louis.  Now Harry almost got the impression that Louis was just an extension of _him_ tonight, that he was _Harry’s_.  The knowledge that Louis would do anything Harry asked of him put a lot of pressure on Harry to be extra attentive tonight.

Harry touched Louis’ bottom lip with his thumb.  “I’m going to take care of you.  But I need to know that you’re hearing me when I talk, Louis,” he said.  “So when I tell you to do something, you’re going to say, ‘Yes, Harry.’  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Harry.”

Harry’s lips turned upwards.  “And if I do something you don’t want, you’re going to be a good boy and tell me, right?”

Louis nodded; Harry made a disapproving noise.  “Yes, Harry.”

“Good.  Now undress,” Harry said.  “Everything.”  When a moment passed without a response from Louis, just him moving to obey, Harry easily stepped forward and forcefully lifted Louis’ chin.

“Yes, Harry,” Louis quickly responded, eyes never leaving Harry’s.  Harry dropped his face and took a step back as Louis removed his clothes.  Once naked, Louis clasped his hands together in front of himself and waited for Harry’s next instruction.

“Turn around and bend over there,” Harry said, pointing to the kitchen island behind Louis.  “Rest your head down and stick your arse out for me.”

Louis listened and slightly bent down to fold his arms on the granite countertop, finding it an almost-perfect height for him to comfortably rest his head on while standing.

Harry slapped Louis’ arse immediately with no precaution.  “What do you say when I tell you to do something?”

Louis moaned as his body clenched.  “Yes, Harry.”

Liam and Zayn were watching with bright eyes. “Why don’t you sit up on the counter next to Louis,” Liam whispered into Zayn’s ear.

Zayn nodded, hypnotized by Louis’ body, and put his glass down before heaving himself up on the island next to Louis.  Louis had his cheek smushed to the counter, his arms extended and his hands gripping the edges in front of him, and he saw Zayn looking at him through the squinting of his eyes.  Zayn could only imagine how Louis was feeling because right now he looked like something straight out of a porno.

“Get these clothes off of you,” Liam muttered, and before Zayn noticed what Liam was doing, his jeans and pants and socks had been peeled off.  He took off his shirt himself, though, and let his legs dangle over the edge of the counter he was sitting on until Liam told him to move them.  “Put your feet up; spread your legs.  You can lean back on your hands if you have to.”

Zayn listened, curling his bare feet around the edge of the kitchen island, feeling really, really exposed under the light from overhead, and he’d barely gotten himself comfortable before Liam looked down at his stiffening cock and spit on it.  Zayn’s mouth fell open as he saw a string of saliva trail down his dick, and he tried to look at Liam, but Liam had already bent forward slightly and was kissing and tonguing along Zayn’s cock, getting it wetter.

Zayn just made a tiny sound, “Unh…” and looked back at Harry.  He was taking large handfuls of Louis’ arse and squeezing, sometimes spreading the skin around in kneading motions.

“We’re all watching you because you’re so, so lovely, Lou,” Harry whispered, just caressing Louis’ arse cheeks now. “Gonna show us how pretty you are?  Getting spanked with your plug in?”

Louis’ brain fired off in a reminder that he needed to respond a certain way.  “Yes, Harry.”

“How many would you like, baby?” Harry asked lightly, fingering the base of Louis’ plug and twisting it in small circles around and around.

“I don’t know,” Louis whispered.  “However many—you want.”

“You were so good to ask for this,” Harry said, praising him softly, “but how many would you like?  Good boys ask for what they want.”  Louis mumbled something that Harry couldn’t hear.  “If you want me to understand you, Louis, you need to speak up.”

“Can you—get a spoon…“ Harry followed Louis’ eyes to the area beside the stove, where Harry kept all the large utensils for cooking in a big container, “…and use it?”

Harry paused as Louis’ words came into comprehension.  He and Louis weren’t, like, _into_ it that deeply.  Deep enough to use _objects_ to spank Louis with.  Usually Harry just used his hand.  But if that was what Louis wanted, then…

“Yes,” he answered, regaining his composure, “but _how many would you like_ , Louis?”

“…Twenty?”

“Is that a question?”

“No, Harry.  Er…twenty,” he amended.  “Please.”

“Good.”

Liam slowly sucked on Zayn’s cock while Zayn’s hips tried to move back and forth to get more.  Liam wasn’t sucking like Zayn knew he could—he was teasing, probably just trying to get him to full hardness.  It made Zayn more itchy, and he tried to push down on Liam’s head, except Liam wasn’t having any of that.  Liam reached ahead of him and found Zayn’s tight little puckering hole and circled around it with his index finger as he backed off of Zayn’s dick.  It was getting uncomfortable leaning over him like that, so—“Stand up.”

Zayn did so, and Liam dropped to his knees, returning to mouthing at Zayn at his same murderously slow pace.

Harry sidestepped the couple to examine all the wooden spoons he used for cooking soups and sauces.  He found one, a long one whose mouth didn’t look too big or too small, and walked back to Louis.

“You want twenty,” he repeated.  “I’m going to give you ten on each side, alternating sides every hit.  I want you to count them.”

Louis’ fingers squeezed the edges of the counter even tighter.  “Yes, Harry.”

Harry tried to move in a way so that he could still see Louis’ face while doing this, and he was pleased at what he saw when he brought down the spoon for the first time.  “ _One_ ,” Louis gritted out, his face fucking flawless. 

The process wasn’t the same for Harry as using a hand—it made a different sound, concentrated the pain in a smaller area than his wide palm—but Louis was ridiculously responsive.  Harry used the same strength with every swing of the spoon, only sometimes his aim was off, so little red blotches of blood appeared under Louis’ skin in patchy places all over his arse.

“ _Ten_ ,” Louis said, his voice the deepest Harry had ever heard it before.  Harry’s face scrunched up in attention to Louis, taking in every signal his body was giving off—from the redness of his arse to the sweating on his face to the way he was beginning to stand on his tip-toes.

When Louis groaned out, “Fif—“, his hand reaching high in the sky and slamming down on the counter as he panted, Harry lowered the spoon and carefully studied Louis.  He’d never seen Louis react this way before—so _loud_ , so carnally.  He decided to stop.  “That’s enough for now,” he said, placing the spoon on the counter.

“I can—I can take more,” Louis grunted.  “We said—we said twenty.”

Harry moved forward to kiss his temple.  “We said twenty, but we need to take a break.”

“Have I—“

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” Harry interrupted, sweeping Louis’ sweaty fringe to the side.  “You were perfect.  My perfect boy.  Remember what I told you what I’m gonna do once I take your plug out?”

Harry might have imagined that Louis’ eyes rolled in the back of his head, but maybe he didn’t.  “…Tongue?”

“Mhmm.” Harry kissed Louis’ cheek and then crouched down to his knees, eye-level with Louis’ arsehole, only that he couldn’t quite see it yet; the circular, metallic base of the plug hid it from his view.  He leaned in and licked a stripe along the bottom curve of Louis’ arse, soothing the redness there with long swipes of his tongue. 

By this time, Liam had situated himself on the other side of Zayn and was eating out his arse, so Harry said, “Just like Liam.  Look at Liam.  You like what he’s doing?”

“Yeah.”  Harry painfully bit the skin of one arse cheek.  “Yes, Harry.”

“Need you to widen those legs a bit more, Lou,” Harry whispered.

Louis just moaned, a never-ending sound, as Harry reached forward and pulled out the butt plug that had been inside him for hours with a filthy noise.  Harry was captivated by what he saw and dropped the toy to the floor carelessly.

Harry actually whimpered.  Louis’ hole was perfectly round, brownish-pink, and wet and open and ready for Harry’s tongue already.  Harry didn’t need to spread Louis’ cheeks open any more before latching on with his mouth and greedily sucking on the skin there.

Louis immediately gripped the side of the counter and painfully squeezed his eyes shut. “Oh, fuck, oh, fuck.  I’m so close—”

“Already?” Harry asked lightly.  “I’ve only just begun.”

Louis whined.

Harry just reached around to squeeze at the base of Louis’ cock, knowing that would keep him from coming.  He buried his face deeper in Louis’ arse and stuck out his tongue, already able to go inside but choosing to just make little licks around the rim.

“You’ve got,” Harry licked,  “ _the_ most,” Harry sucked a bit of skin inside his mouth, “gorgeous,” he flicked his tongue, “arse,” he finished, pushing his tongue all the way inside once he was finished speaking.

Louis was amazing.  He was _so_ loose, so unbelievably smooth, and the little muscles of his arse were rhythmically clenching on Harry’s tongue as Harry licked his way inside, pushing in as far as he could.

“Harry, _fuck me_ , please, please, _please_ just fuck me,” Louis rambled.

Harry backed up his face and pulled off his shirt to wipe his mouth.  “Liam, you got lube?”

Liam didn’t remove his mouth from Zayn as he contorted his still-clothed body and reached into the pocket of his jeans.  He found a bottle and slid it across the floor to Harry.

“In your _jeans_ , Li?  Really?” Zayn was being smarmy because Liam wasn’t letting him back up onto his tongue.

Harry undressed and covered his cock with slick as Louis remained bent over, and then he instructed, “Stand up, baby.  Here in front of me.”

“Yes, Harry,” Louis said automatically, barely feeling the strain of his muscles as he moved away from the island to stand in the middle of the kitchen, facing Zayn.

“You’re not to bend over anymore,” Harry told Louis from behind.  “Don’t even think about moving.  Just stand there.”

“Yes, Harry.”

Harry had to bend his knees slightly to find a good angle with which to penetrate Louis, but he found it comfortable nonetheless once he started moving.  Harry’s pace was controlled—slow, torturous, perfect.  Louis had nothing to hold onto, nothing to steady himself on, so his hands dropped to squeeze at Harry’s own hands holding his hip bones.

Liam, meanwhile, had just situated Zayn on his hands and knees and was kneeling behind his arse, continuing to lick him open.  Zayn looked back at Liam the best he could and smiled through the pleasure Liam was giving him.  The wetness of Liam’s tongue, the cool of the air hitting the areas he’d just licked, even the scruff of Liam’s beard—all of it was heaven.  But Zayn still wanted more.

Zayn crawled forward until he was directly in front of Louis and Harry steadily fucking, so close he looked up and saw Harry’s cock going in and out of Louis behind Louis’ swaying balls.  Liam grunted after Zayn left him, so he crawled forward, too, immediately reattaching his mouth to Zayn’s arse.  Louis watched Liam eating out Zayn with lust-filled eyes and squeezed Harry’s hands even tighter, wishing he’d fucking _speed u_ p.  He tried moving himself backwards to meet Harry’s thrusts, but Harry’s grip made it impossible for him to move his hips at all, so all he could do was moan continuously and hope Harry would soon have mercy.

With his eyes fixed on Louis’, Zayn inched upwards and licked his lips.  Louis’ heartbeat quickened as he realized what Zayn was about to do, and he muttered “Shit,” as he stared at Zayn’s parted mouth.

“You should come in my mouth this time,” Zayn uttered up to Louis.  “Not waste it all on the floor like you did before.”

Louis just continued gazing down, his eyes darting back and forth between Liam moving his face side-to-side in between Zayn’s arse cheeks and Zayn’s illegal face looking up at him. _Telling Louis to come in his mouth._ From time to time, Zayn’s eyes drooped and little whimpers escaped his mouth as Liam must’ve been doing something extra pleasing with his tongue, but Zayn continued staring up at Louis as if waiting for something.

“He just talked to you, Lou,” Harry chided, digging his fingers deep into Louis’ hip.  “Reply to him.”

“Y-yeah,” Louis told Zayn, nodding his head.  “Yes.  I can— _God, Harry, don’t stop fucking me_ —“

Zayn smiled before widely opening his mouth and sucking down as much of Louis’ cock as he could in one go.  Louis bucked his hips forward at the sudden sensation of being completely enveloped in the wet heat of Zayn’s mouth—“ _Zayn!_ ”—and Harry groaned and pulled his body back.  Louis made a little noise at how rough Harry was being with him—rough, but still not fucking him like he wanted.  He was _so fucking open_ , and he needed to be fucked harder.

“Please, Harry…”

With Harry slowly filling him up again and again behind him and Zayn rhythmically bobbing his head in front of him, Louis found that soon he couldn’t cope.  He wasn’t able to move at all, and his muscles were already sore from trying in vain.  His legs began to shake, and he pulled large tufts of Zayn’s hair in lieu of doing anything else.

Then Liam took his hands and spread Zayn’s arse cheeks apart wider while obscenely licking there, long tongue visible and all, and Louis grew entranced by the sight.  Zayn moaned at the furious sensations Liam was giving him, and the vibrations from Zayn’s mouth ran all along Louis’ cock until he began pulling Zayn’s hair even harder.

“ _Zayn, Zayn_ ,” he said desperately, tapping Zayn’s head, “I’m gonna come.”

Harry _finally_ increased the speed of his hips, murmuring behind him, “ _Come_ , baby.  Gonna come all in his mouth, aren’t you?” Louis just kept staring at Zayn and Liam, Zayn’s wet lips slurping up and down his shaft, Liam’s tongue darting lightning-fast in and out of Zayn’s arse, and Harry repeated louder, _“Aren’t you?”_

“ _Yeah, yes,”_ Louis answered in a whimper right before he warned again, “I’m about to fucking _come_ , Harry.”  Zayn acted like he hadn’t even heard, just kept bobbing his head back and forth, staring up at Louis, and seconds later, with a gasp and a moan, Louis hoarsely shouted out as his body shook in the most intense explosion he had ever experienced.

The release left Louis all tingly, and his legs had shaken _so_ much and his arse had squeezed _so_ tightly when he came that he’d pushed Harry’s cock out.  Harry was silently happy about that.  He was about to come, too, and he hated when he came before Louis did.  And Louis was going to come so, _so_ many fucking times tonight.  

Louis was floating now, limp and fucked-out and vulnerable.  Harry wrapped his arms tightly around Louis’ torso and kissed his sweaty neck in a series of loving pecks.

“Feel good?”

Louis swallowed and nodded his head imperceptibly, unable to do anything else.  However, when Harry pinched his nipple, it reminded him to verbally answer. “Harry,” Louis whispered, absolutely wrecked. 

He needed to tell Harry to stop; he couldn’t take anymore.  _Could he?_   His muscles hurt.  His bum hurt.  His legs—his strong, strong legs—were giving out.  He couldn’t stand up anymore.  “ _Harry_ ,” he repeated.  “I can’t, I _can’t anymore_ ,” he whimpered.  He squeezed his eyes, and little tears pooled at the sides. 

Harry had the smaller boy completely enveloped in his strong arms.  He dropped his head to whisper into Louis’ ear, “Yes, you can, baby.  Yes, you can.”  He stuck his tongue inside the lobe, licking around before nibbling on the shell.

Louis whined and wanted to protest and complain, wanted Harry to pick him up and lie him down somewhere.  Harry knew best, though.  Harry always knew best.

Harry reached between their bodies to his cock and matched it back up to Louis, easily slipping inside and gently rutting there while looking on to see Liam run his hands up and down Zayn’s back.

“You suck cock so _good_ , babe,” Liam praised, leaving open-mouthed kisses along Zayn’s arse and back before standing up. “You like having something in your arse and your mouth at the same time, don’t you?”

Zayn backed himself up to sit on his calves and furiously nodded his head.

“Know you do,” Liam said lightly, finally taking off his clothes.  His cock was perpendicular to his body, dark and stiff and ready to be inside Zayn.  He put on a condom he had in his jeans and coated it with the lube on the kitchen island before lifting Zayn up to stand in front of Louis.  Harry and Louis watched Zayn’s face as Liam slowly entered him from behind in a mirror of Louis’ and Harry’s position.  Liam roughly whispered something into Zayn’s ear, but no one heard what he’d said.

Zayn was just inches away, and Louis could bend forward and touch him if he wanted, but his brain was slow, still buzzing from his orgasm, and hadn’t Harry said something about not bending forward?  Harry gradually sped up his movements again, and Louis sighed in contentment.  He closed his eyes and felt Harry enter him all the way, stay there for a moment, and then drag himself back out, only to repeat it faster and faster each time.  When Zayn began moaning, Louis opened his eyes again and looked at him.

Louis had only gone a little soft, and though he didn’t look down, he could feel his dick thicken as he watched Liam rock back and forth behind Zayn.  Liam kept his eyes downcast, focused on the repetitive in-and-out motion of his cock in Zayn’s wet arsehole, but from time to time, he looked up at Harry, and the two of them stared at each other for a few minutes before looking away.  Liam’s fingers played around Zayn’s bum, touching and tickling all around his entrance until finally slipping one inside along with his cock.

Zayn moaned louder as Liam began thrusting faster, fucking him with his dick and a very thick finger, and Zayn leaned forward to kiss Louis.  Louis, thrilled to finally have something in his mouth, gladly met Zayn’s lips and was surprised when Zayn’s tongue entered his mouth and passed on his entire load into Louis’ own.  Zayn had kept all Louis’ cum in his mouth the whole time, just waiting.

Louis smacked his lips filthily, tasting his own cum before opening his mouth and passing it back to Zayn.  A long stripe of saliva and semen fell from the area where Zayn and Louis’ lips joined, and Zayn noisily slurped it back up, finally swallowing it.  Louis spit out what was in his mouth onto his chest and met Zayn’s mouth again with slimy and messy movements of his lips.

“This feels so fucking amazing,” Zayn whispered in disbelief into Louis’ mouth, “don’t it?”

“ _Mmm_ ,” Louis moaned.  He leaned the upper part of his body forward to press his sticky, sweaty chest against Zayn’s.   Harry then moved a hand to the small of Louis’ back, and his other hand smacked Louis’ arse for moving when Harry had told him not to.  Already being sore, the pain sent pleasure everywhere, and the incredulity of how _good_ he felt spread throughout Louis’ mind, shocking every nerve-ending so that he couldn’t even sound out.  He rested his head on Zayn’s chest, and his tongue licked robotic stripes around Zayn’s nipple.

Harry and Liam were wordless behind Louis and Zayn, their heavy breathing the only sound coming from the two of them—that and the sound of their sweaty hips slamming forward.

All Louis could do was clench onto Zayn’s bony sides with desperate fingers and suck painfully hard at his nipple while Harry sporadically smacked more red marks onto his arse and began fucking him more brutally.  Louis reveled in the pain, feeling more and more fireworks popping off inside his brain with each throbbing smack from Harry.

“Shi-iit,” Louis brokenly moaned against Zayn’s skin.  Zayn just cradled Louis’ head to his chest and ran his fingers through his hair, and as Louis’ upper body collapsed even further into Zayn’s, Harry’s hands held him up.

Zayn gasped when he felt his arsehole stretch wider—Liam had added another finger, so now there were _two_ inside Zayn, sliding in and out right on top of Liam’s cock—and he fumbled around for Louis’ hand.  Finding one clutching his side, Zayn moved it to his dick and whimpered in need.  Louis understood, so he raised his hand to his mouth, licked all over his palm, and lowered it back to Zayn’s cock.

Zayn’s hands fell to wrap around Louis’ neck.  “Oh, shit, oh, shit,” Zayn chanted.  “Kiss me,Lou, kiss me,” he whispered.

Louis was still mouthing at Zayn’s chest, covering Zayn’s nipple in saliva and only thinking of the erotic pleasures of moving his hand up and down Zayn’s erection and feeling Harry’s cock prod deep inside his body.  He had fallen.  His brain had finally shut off, and he wasn’t sure if he was even _stroking_ Zayn anymore or just holding him.

“Listen to him, Louis,” Harry commanded sharply from behind him, and it took Harry’s voice to wake Louis up from the daze he was in.

“What?” Louis asked slowly, stupidly.

Harry repeated the order for him.  “Kiss him.”

“Yes, sir,” he mumbled, and where had that come from?

Louis lifted his face and looked at Zayn, looked at the desperation that surely matched his own visage, and just parted his lips in invitation.  Zayn bent down and kissed Louis, and Louis licked deep inside his mouth, trying to chase the taste of his cum.

 _Cum_.

That was suddenly all Louis could think about, and he sharply bit Zayn’s lip while erratically moving his hand along the end of Zayn’s cock.  Moments later, he could feel Zayn’s breath against his face as Zayn shouted out, and hot, hot cum covered the back of Louis’ hand.

Something ran through Louis’ brain—a reminder—he had to remind Harry about something—he was going to come—needed permission—couldn’t talk—

Louis whimpered as his arse tightened for the second time around Harry’s length, and he completely lost control of his body as he and Zayn fell into each other, holding one another as if their life depended on it.  Behind Zayn, Liam’s thrusts were fitful until he grunted and finally stopped moving.

Louis had no way of knowing how long he and Zayn held each other like that, high-pitched noises of shock falling non-stop from their lips as they panted together, and Louis looked downwards with hazy eyes to see bits of his cum splattered on the floor between his feet. 

Despite Louis just orgasming and shaking all over the place, Harry never changed his pace.  If anything, he snapped his hips even _harder_ into the mess of a boy in front of him and gripped his hips tighter to help steady Louis’ trembling, flopped form, and Louis couldn’t take it.  He left his body.

Harry had bent his knees even more and began thrusting upwards in the perfect position to hit Louis’ prostate, his back curling with each drive.  “ _Oh, my_ _Godddd_ ,” Louis slurred.  He squeezed his eyes as he felt his cock pulse and unbelievably spurt out a few more drips of cum from the stimulation deep inside him, and then his front half completely fell forward.

Louis’ mind was buzzing.  He noticed Zayn had moved away from him, and he and Liam were hugging.  His leg muscles had completely given out.  Everything hurt.  He wanted to lay down.  He kept looking at Liam and Zayn hugging.  He wanted Harry to hug him, _too_.  “ _Down_ ,” he cried to the floor.

“Get on your knees,” Harry quickly told Louis as he slipped out of him.  Harry’s control had seemed to snap, but Louis didn’t notice.  He was happy to have a simple order to follow, glad to not have to stand up anymore, and he smiled and fell forward, lying horizontally.

“Baby, _God_ ,” Harry said frantically as he held his cock, “ _get on your knees_!”

Louis’ brain was slow and fuzzy, but he frenziedly scrambled to obey.  He got on his knees and slipped on his own semen before turning around with his mouth open in front of Harry’s torso.  Louis’ eyes watched Harry’s hand move impossibly fast over his own glistening cock, his own hands limply resting by his sides as Harry continued to jerk himself to completion.

Harry’s left hand fell to Louis’ hair, gripping and pulling tightly while his right hand furiously moved.  He screwed up his face in ecstasy and bellowed out one long, drawn-out groan as he literally exploded onto Louis’ face.

For long moments after Harry came, Louis remained on his knees and just looked up at Harry in awe.  Harry’s hand dropped from Louis’ hair, and he used his thumb to swipe the stripes of cum off of Louis’ face and onto his lips.  Louis just opened his mouth and took what was given to him before eventually falling forward and literally lying on the floor, his wet face on Harry’s foot.

Harry carefully dropped to his knees and rolled Louis around, gently framing his face with his hands.  Louis’ face was rosy and sweaty, his hair positively damp and sticking out in all directions, his eyes vacant.

Harry gave him a few moments to catch his breath before he asked, “What’s going on in your head, love?”

He got no answer.  “Louis,” Harry said firmly.  “I need you to come back to me.”  Louis made a little noise at that, which was good, but Harry continued, “We are at our home.  In the kitchen.  And Liam and Zayn are here, and you did _such_ a good job, but I need you back.”

“Down,” Louis said.

“Down…what?  What’s that mean?”

“So happy to lie down,” he muttered.

“You’re so tired,” Harry said in sympathy.  He was exhausted himself, his body sweaty and yucky, but none of that even mattered.  He looked at Zayn and Liam, giggling in each other’s arms and wiping off one another’s bodies by the sink.

“Zayn, can you hold him for just a minute?  He’s fragile right now.  I need to get blankets before he starts shivering.”  Zayn nodded, of course, and even though the other boy was sweaty, Zayn pulled him into his lap while Liam cleaned the floor with a towel.  Harry kissed Louis on the mouth and said, “I’m going to get something from the other room, darling.  Zayn’s going to give you cuddles until I get back, okay?”

Harry was only gone for a minute tops, but in that time, he dragged two mattresses down the hall and put them on the floor of the lounge in a huge, soft area for everyone to lie upon, got blankets and pillows for everyone, and had gotten a bottle of water, a banana, soothing cream, and a washrag for Louis.

“I’ve set up a bed in the lounge, boo,” Harry said as he wiped off Louis’ face and chest.  “We can watch a movie or something,” he suggested, smiling widely at Liam and Zayn once he caught his breath. “Or sleep, whatever.”

“ _Word_ ,” Zayn said, and he and Liam immediately left the kitchen to settle in under the blankets in the other room.

Harry sat down next to Louis on the floor.  “We’re going to lie down like you want, babe.  On something comfy.  Let’s walk a bit and then we can relax.”

Louis groaned but did as Harry asked, falling on the mattress naked along with everybody else after taking the torturous thirty-second journey into the lounge.

Harry had Louis lie on his stomach so he could rub lotion on his arse.  “How’s my boo bear doing?” he asked gently.  He preferred to be alone with Louis for this special time, but Liam and Zayn were having a similar moment, so it was okay.

“Good,” he answered, snuggling more into the covers with a smile.  “Did I do well?”

Harry smiled.  “Of course you did.  You did perfect.  You are always so perfect.”  Once Harry was done applying the cream to Louis, he pulled the covers over both of their bodies and wiggled in close to him.  “I’m so happy,” Harry whispered, wrapping his arms around Louis.  “I’ve got my boy, and I’ve got some blankets, and we’re so cozy and _warm_ ,” he kept cooing, “and I love you so, so much.”

Louis grinned.  “I love you, Hazza.  Make me feel good,” he muttered.

“You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Louis,” Harry whispered.

Eventually, once everyone’s sweat had dried off and everyone had had time to process what had just happened and come back to earth, they all fell asleep together, tangled up in each other’s limbs.

Harry chose to let Louis sleep in the inside of the group so that he could be flanked by warmth, and when Harry woke up and saw that Liam’s head had fallen to rest on Louis’ shoulder, he didn’t even bat an eye.

 

* * *

 

“We’re all going out tonight, yeah?” Niall said, his eyes growing large at the plate of food that was being brought to him as he spoke.

“Sure,” Louis said, looking around at everyone nodding their heads, agreeable and happy now that their food was in front of them.

“Excellent!” Niall said enthusiastically.  “ _This time_ , you all better not send me off in a fucking taxi by myself because you’re too tired to hang.”

“We won’t, mate,” Zayn laughed.

Though Louis had his own right in front of him, he stole a few of Niall’s chips and said, “Yeah, I’ve already had my mid-day nap, so I’m good.”

Harry rolled his eyes and reached for the salt.  Louis was always acting like he was so damn old.  “Thank you so much,” he told the waitress with his signature smile.  “Looks lovely.”

 _“Looks lovely,”_ Louis quietly mocked so nobody but Harry could hear.

“I’ll check back in just a few minutes, but can I bring you anything else now?” she asked, staring at Harry.

Liam answered for the group, “No, thanks, I think we’re fine.”

“So, I’m wondering,” Niall said with a mouth full of food once the waitress left, “when you all have sex—” he stopped speaking for a moment to swallow his food, and Zayn and Louis shared a very hesitant look.  Where had _that_ come from?  _How had he found out?_

Liam noticed and snapped his head to Niall. “What?”

Niall swallowed.  “When you all have sex,” he repeated, signaling between the couples—Harry and Louis, Zayn and Liam—“Like, do you have to clean your arse out before-hand or what?”

The tension had melted as quickly as it had come.  Zayn made a nasty face and Louis laughed loudly.  “I happen to have an incredibly clean bum, Niall,” Louis said, smiling widely.

“I’m being completely serious here,” Niall said, holding his burger in his hands again and taking another huge bite out of it, “and not being rude at all,” he said with a mouth full of food, “but how is it possible _not_ to get shit on your dick?”

“That’s what condoms are for,” Liam answered.

Niall raised his eyebrows.  “Oh,” he said with interest.  “But—”

“Or, I mean, you could always just practice good hygiene,” Louis supplanted.

“So you _do_ clean your arse out.”

“In necessary circumstances.”

“Well,” Niall started, swallowing and taking a gulp of his drink, “if I have to go, I have to go.  And if I _want_ it, I want it.  So what happens if that’s the case?”

Louis started laughing.  “What?  If you want to fuck but you’ve just taken a poo?”

Niall felt a little stupid but just shrugged and nodded.  Straight as can be, he was genuinely curious about what his bandmates did.  “Yeah,” he laughed.  “Hypothetically.”

Liam face-palmed at the direction the conversation had taken—“We’re _eating_ , _honestly_ ,”—and Zayn looked smugly interested at the look on Niall’s face.  Louis listened with immature interest.

“Some people switch,” Harry answered.  “Like, change up who’s on top.  Or just…I mean, it doesn’t all have to revolve around the butt.”  Louis sniggered.  Harry ignored him.  “There’s hands and mouths and all types of fun ways to get stuff done.”

“Or you could just wear a condom,” Liam said.

“Yeah…but I just think barebacking is kind of intimate,” Harry lightly responded.  “Not all the time, I get that, but—I don’t know.” He shrugged.

“Bear what?” Niall asked.

“Barebacking,” Zayn said.  “Doing it without a condom.  It can get messy.”

Louis hid his smile and took a sip of his drink.  He didn’t mind the mess of having Harry come inside him.  Liked it, even.

“Also can make you sorer quicker,” Zayn added.

Harry replied easily, “You’ve just got to be careful.”

“Or you could just wear a condom,” Liam said.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Or you could just wear a condom,” he said with a smirk.

Niall licked his fingers clean once he finished his burger in what he very well thought was record time.  “Well, I have just learned a lot of new information.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been waiting to write this scene for a very, very long time, so I'm excited. I have a few notes!
> 
> 1.) If you left a comment wanting to see certain kinks portrayed, just be patient, and don't be shy about commenting in the future about anything you'd like me to add.
> 
> 2.) If you're upset about the lack of Ziam action, I have a special scene planned for the next chapter that's just Zayn and Liam.
> 
> 3.) If you see errors, LET ME KNOW. I try really hard to edit it completely, but if I mix up names (!!!) or something doesn't make sense, tell me. I hate typos, but I hate leaving typos for /everyone/ to see even worse.
> 
> 4.) Lastly, sorry about the length of this. I am very aware of my too-detailed problem. I tend to TELL and not SHOW, and I'm sorry. But it's not going to change, haha.
> 
> Thanks for reading!!!! :)
> 
>  
> 
> New Note:  
> Also, next chapter (that I might split into two shorter parts?) includes a Harry & Louis argument as well as very mild feminization but with the potential for pretty heavy feminization and daddy kink in the future, then there is a sexy scene with Liam & Zayn but maybe no added kinks just yet.
> 
> New New Note:  
> The next chapter will either be ridiculously long or, I'll split it into two parts. I'm thinking of leaving it as one big chapter, but be warned: it's long as crap. Maybe 15k right now and I'm not done.   
> Light feminization and Daddy kink for Larry and some kinky beginnings for Ziam. Also a stupid, drunken argument between Louis and Harry that obviously gets resolved almost immediately because they are ridiculously in love with each other however stupid they might get. :) :) :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam and Zayn try out spanking for the first time as a psuedo-birthday-celebration for Liam. When everybody goes out to celebrate Liam's birthday, drunk times are had and the night doesn't end happily for Louis and Harry. They may or may not make up and have awesome sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS.
> 
> GUYS.
> 
> 22.5k words. Do you realize how long that is? I am so sorry. I tried to split it up into readable parts, so...maybe that'll make it easier when you do delve into this. It's much different than the prior chapters, so be aware of that I guess.
> 
> Also, please disregard the fact that I only make the boys work when I want to, and I only make the boys get recognized in public when I want to, and basically I just...do what I want.
> 
> Tags That Apply: Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Rimming, Spanking, Hints at Upcoming Choking, Louis in Lingerie, Mild Feminization, Daddy Kink, Face-Sitting (and kind of 69), Sex-Toys (Vibrator), Multiple Orgasms, Barebacking

“Animal themes, _check_ ,” Zayn said, smirking at the page he and Liam were on and pretending to put a mark next to “ _Human Ponies_.”

“ _Zayn_ ,” Liam scolded, “you’re the one who wanted to borrow this book—” this _encyclopedia_ , he wanted to correct—“from Harry in the first place, remember?  The whole point is to see all the kinky stuff that’s out there so we can maybe try it if you want.  We need to be serious.”

“How do you know I’m not being serious about human ponies?” Zayn asked.  Liam looked at him unamused, and Zayn, shrinking under Liam’s seriousness, relented.  “ _Okay_ , okay.”

Recently, Zayn had expressed to Liam that after watching Harry spank Louis on _two_ separate occasions now, _maybe_ he was madly turned on by that.  _Maybe_ to the point where he’d like Liam to do that to him.  Maybe sometime soon please?  And naturally, since Liam knew next-to-nothing about that kind of thing and wasn’t about to just jump into something like that without any knowledge whatsoever, he logically went to the only person who made any sense to question: Harry.

So now, Liam and Zayn were reading side-by-side in bed, Zayn clad in his thick, black glasses, Liam insisting on using his new ridiculously-bright lamp on the nightstand to illuminate the pages, and both lads holding pens in their hands to mark certain things they found interesting.  It could’ve looked like a cozy marriage scene, Zayn surmised, if the title of the book they were mulling over weren’t _The Ultimate Guide to Kink._

After rolling his eyes at Liam, Zayn continued to silently read, skimming the explanations of all the various kinks and pausing to look at pictures if there were any.  The sheer amount of _stuff_ that existed out there surprised him…stuff he’d never even _heard_ of, like cock cages and cuckolding on the current page he was reading, and _what on earth_?

Despite all the shocking stuff, it was easy to realize that he had an immediate inclination towards the more masochistic stuff—fisting, flogging, fire play: wax—but he hadn’t even used his pen once to indicate that to Liam.  Actually, he was becoming a little overwhelmed, and his mind felt close to exploding.

“Liam, can we…maybe do this another time?” he asked all of a sudden. “This is getting kind of heavy.”

Liam, reading a sentence audibly under his breath, was startled by Zayn’s voice and swiftly turned his head.  “What?  Oh, yeah, sure,” he replied, a little uncertainly.  “Sorry, I thought you said…”

“No, yeah,” Zayn corrected immediately.  “I do.  This is just a whole lot.  Spanking, I’m ready for.  I want that.  I _know_ I do.  But…I…let’s just do this another time.”  He gestured to the picture before him of a woman on a bed, hogtied with thick ropes.  “Let’s talk about…all of _this_ …another time.”

Liam wordlessly closed the book and slid it under the bed, then gathered Zayn into his arms and gently pulled him in close. “Are you… _okay_ with the book, though?  You still want to look at it later?  We don’t have to.”

Zayn nodded against Liam’s side.  “I want to.”

“Okay.  We’ll just wait on all that, then.  But you know enough about spanking to know you’re ready for it, yeah?” Liam asked lightly, absentmindedly trailing a finger along Zayn’s arm.  “Like, when you want to do it?”

Zayn nodded again.  “As soon as you want,” he responded.  He looked up at Liam expectantly, as if maybe they could even try it tonight.  Liam smiled slightly, but Zayn could tell he was going to say no.  He probably needed to _research_ more.

“Soon,” was Liam’s response.  He was quiet for a bit, knowing Zayn was frowning slightly beside him.  He didn’t want to make Zayn frown _more_ , but, “So, er, Mum’s arranged a family thing,” he started, “for my birthday.”  Zayn lifted his head.  “Since it’s next Monday, she’s putting something together on Friday, then I’ll still have time to visit a bit on Saturday and still be back here by night.”

“ _Babe_ , Friday’s in two days.”

“Yeah…it was last minute…” Liam said apologetically.  “I just found out about it yesterday, and I…forgot to say anything.”

Zayn settled back into Liam’s side, albeit a little grumpily.  “Hmpf.  Well, tell your family I say hello.”

Liam was still for just a moment before turning to the side then and tickling Zayn, who promptly began wiggling and pounding on Liam’s back and arms.  “Ah, Liam, what the fuck—stop!”

“And why would I do that?” Liam asked while frantically moving his fingers against Zayn’s sides.

“Because I’ll kick your—fucking—ahhh, _ahh_ —arse— _stopit, Liam_!”

Liam slotted a leg in between Zayn’s and held his hands up in surrender.  Zayn narrowed his eyes at Liam as he straightened his glasses but still slightly puckered his lips when Liam lowered his face for a kiss.  It was a ruse, however, and the next second Liam was tickling Zayn again, cackling even through the multiple times Zayn hit his head with a pillow.

“Made you smile,” Liam teased.

“How you go from so boringly serious to so _annoyingly_ playful is beyond me,” Zayn grumbled once he’d finally succeeded in biting Liam hard enough he’d surrendered.

Liam genuinely kissed Zayn then, smiling all the while.  “Oh, be quiet.  You love me.  And there was nothing boring about that book.”

 

* * *

 

From where he was lounging on the sofa playing Xbox, Zayn could hear an automobile drive along his long, private lane.  He knew without having to get up and check that it was Liam, but he was confused as to why his boyfriend was back so early.  He’d said that he wouldn’t be home ‘til at least eight from Wolverhampton, and it was only six.

Checking his mobile in his lap, Zayn didn’t notice any new messages from Liam explaining anything, so he just tossed it aside as he excitedly rose from his seat.  Just as the vehicle’s engine cut off, Zayn opened the front door widely, smiling in pleasant surprise when Liam emerged from his car, looking just as attractive as always.

“You’re early,” Zayn said, not even trying to hide the gaping look he gave Liam as he stepped out of the driver’s seat.  Two days apart and it was like he was starved.  Liam just looked so _hot_ , his arm muscles tan and visible and his abs discernable through the white tank top he wore.  “Thought you said—”

Liam didn’t respond with words or even an expression, just sternly looked ahead and crossed the area between his vehicle and Zayn with just a few hasty steps.  Zayn wondered momentarily if Liam was upset over something but second-guessed himself after meeting Liam’s eyes.  His eyes weren’t angry… they were _predatory_.

Once in front of Zayn, Liam framed Zayn’s face with two large hands and immediately pressed his wet lips to Zayn’s, kissing away any further questioning.  Zayn’s little noise of surprise was muffled and then stolen by Liam’s tongue as it made its way inside Zayn’s mouth, and after a few seconds of pleasant shock, Zayn relaxed in Liam’s strong grip and openly and heatedly snogged him back, right there on the front porch.

Zayn’s hands crept up and around Liam’s chest to firmly grip the back of his neck while his own tongue massaged Liam’s with the same passion and vigor Liam was surprisingly assaulting him with.  Liam groaned a little.  By now, Zayn knew every little thing he could do to tease Liam, every little nip, every variance of pressure with his tongue, every perfect slide of his lips, and it was working.  Zayn already felt Liam’s hardness from the press of their torsos together, and he smirked against Liam’s mouth.

Liam walked forward, essentially pushing Zayn backwards into the house with his body, and kicked the door shut with his boot, mouth still attached to Zayn’s all the while.  When he finally broke away for a bit of air, he said, “Love the outfit, babe, but _why are you_ _clothed_?”

Zayn laughed into Liam’s mouth; he had to admit that he did look quite good in what he was wearing.  “Good to see you, too.”

Liam hummed against his boyfriend’s lips while speedily unbuttoning and unzipping Zayn’s black jeans.  Trying to push them down Zayn’s thighs, he groaned as they got stuck and shook them a bit, indicating that he needed Zayn’s help getting them off the rest of the way.

Zayn backed away a bit from Liam, expertly sliding his tight jeans down his legs.  After he’d kicked them off, he looked at Liam with a small smile.  “Where’s my hello?  Where’s the, ‘Hi, love, I’ve missed you _so_ —“

“You know I’ve missed you, baby,” Liam cut him off, stepping forward and speaking against Zayn’s lips again, “From the second I left, I missed you.”

“Ah, so romantic,” Zayn muttered, letting himself be kissed once more.

Liam’s hands caressed up and down Zayn’s back underneath his shirt before moving down and cupping his arse.  His fingers lowered down into Zayn’s boxer-briefs, down the cleft of Zayn’s arse, and he touched the pad of his index finger to Zayn’s little hole, pressing firmly when he heard Zayn moan from it.

“Thought I told you to be ready when I got here,” Liam murmured, finding Zayn dry there.

“Thought you meant we were going out,” Zayn said breathlessly.  “Your birthday and all.  I dressed nice and everything.”

Liam grunted.  “Guess I’ll just have to do it myself,” he muttered before he put both of his hands on Zayn’s shoulders and gruffly turned him around to face the wall. 

Zayn immediately bent forward a bit and put the side of his face to the wall as Liam pulled down Zayn’s pants only enough to display his arse.  Zayn was left with the task of stepping out of the underwear, and once he was left in only his socks and t-shirt, Liam pushed him forward again.  He panted against the wall as Liam reached up and, with just the strength of _one_ of his hands, held both of Zayn’s palms up over his head.  Zayn swallowed loudly.  Liam had been learning tricks from Harry.

Liam reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a tiny tube of liquid, wasting no time in coating his fingers with it.  Zayn looked back at what Liam was doing, wanting to say something smart about the fact that Liam had arrived with a fucking _travel-size container of lube_ in his jeans—a habit now?—but he found himself too aroused to whisper anything other than, “What has gotten _into_ you?”

“What?” Liam asked obliviously.  “I can’t bombard my boyfriend and ravish him if I want to?”

“You can bombard and ravish him any time you’d like,” Zayn responded, wiggling his bum to signal that Liam should get to work on just that.  Surprise or not, Zayn wasn’t going to complain.

Liam just made a small noise of assent and pressed his fingers to the middle of Zayn’s arse, circling around his entrance until he finally pushed his index finger in.  Zayn dropped his hands and sighed at the pleasant feeling, and—

“Put them back up,” Liam ordered.

Zayn placed his hands back on the wall at once and pushed his arse back onto Liam the best he could as Liam added a second finger, getting Zayn nice and stretched out.  When Liam was satisfied, he left Zayn empty and went to work on freeing his own cock, already full and completely erect from anticipating and fantasizing about this on the entire car-ride down.  He carelessly unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his jeans, letting them drop to his ankles after unzipping them.

Liam took a moment coating himself with lube before lining up his cock to Zayn and breaching him slowly, hissing as he looked down and saw himself disappearing inch by inch inside Zayn’s tight arse.  He quickly looked up at the part of Zayn’s face that was visible and saw him forcefully squeezing his eyes shut, but Liam knew that was a good thing.  Zayn always got a bit overwhelmed whenever Liam first penetrated him because of how “fucking thick” his cock was—Zayn’s own words. 

Gripping Zayn’s bony hips, Liam leisurely began moving back and forth, eventually speeding up with more confidence as Zayn began to make whiny noises.

Zayn had nothing to really hold onto, just the wall, and all he could do was _take it_ as Liam pushed his hips forwards and pulled Zayn’s hips backwards to rhythmically meet again and again, faster and faster.  Zayn was very quickly becoming useless as he fell more into the wall, breathing heavily and gasping while Liam moved rapidly behind him.  He fucking _loved_ it.

“You’re so good,” Liam groaned.  “So fucking good, so _tight,_ always so tight.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Liam grunted, lifting a hand and, without thinking, bringing it down upon Zayn’s arse cheek.

Zayn made a high noise at the sting that resulted.  “ _Shit_ , Liam.  Do it again.”

“Yeah?  Been bad?”

Liam raised the same hand and hit Zayn’s skin on the same spot, turning it sore and handprint-pink.  Zayn groaned against the wall, sure he was drooling on the paint by now, and clenched his arse a bit, still surprised at the feeling and particularly at how much he was enjoying it. 

And technically, Zayn _had_ been bad...He’d masturbated while Liam had been gone.  Even though it was nothing to write home about (he’d only used his own hand, and that was just never the same), Zayn quite liked believing that he had been bad and moaned, “ _Yeah_.”

“Deserve to be spanked?” Liam asked as he struck Zayn one more time before putting his hand back on Zayn’s hip and squeezing there.

 _Holy shit._   Zayn knew it was hot when Harry talked to _Louis_ like that, but it was completely different when it was _Liam_ talking to _him_ that way.  Zayn didn’t respond to Liam anymore, just erratically nodded and pushed back onto his cock more.

Eventually, the force of Liam’s thrusts pushed Zayn completely parallel to the wall, and he was literally becoming squished from getting fucked so hard.  His cock was full and sensitive below him, but it didn’t even cross his mind to reach down and touch himself because Liam was taking care of him so well, fucking his arse _so fucking good_.

Liam muttered nonstop into Zayn’s ear while snapping his hips into him, unintelligible little dirty phrases falling from his lips that Zayn couldn’t have deciphered even if his mind hadn’t become a fog of pleasure.  Zayn responded with his own noises, too, strings of sounds he couldn’t understand or help.  He didn’t know how or where they were even coming from; the only thing he was aware of was that he couldn’t stand any longer.  His muscles were straining from trying not to fall down to the floor, his hands and arms getting tingly from their extended position, and he had to move.

Blindly, Zayn reached to his right, moving his already-sweaty body slowly to the little table against the wall there, and Liam let him move but didn’t stop thrusting into him the entire time. 

“Liam, _Liam_ , nngh,” Zayn gasped out from the sensation of it all, fucking _gone_ with the intensity and strength that was behind him, whimpering at how _small_ Liam was making him feel, how weak, how _fucked_.

Once Zayn was in front of the table, he bent down to gratefully collapse his upper body on it, lying his head down on a pile of papers and splaying his arms widely across the table’s width.  His legs still ached, but he got a little relief from this position.  He could tell that it was a little easier on Liam, too, because Liam moved even _faster_ behind him, and little beads of sweat dropped from his hair onto Zayn’s arse.

Liam quickly took advantage of the fact that this was one of the easiest angles to hit Zayn’s prostate, and he pushed down at the small of Zayn’s back while holding his red arsecheek with his other hand, markedly fucking his arse until he became a boneless, worthless pile underneath him. 

“Oh my _God_ ,” Zayn desperately panted, “spank me, Liam, _please_ , _hit me_ , c’mon…”

Liam looked down at Zayn’s body jolting back and forth with the rhythm of getting fucked.  He loved seeing Zayn this way, loved that he could get Zayn to this point…that he could fuck him _so good_ that he couldn’t do anything but bend over and just _cry out and beg_.  Liam saw and felt how Zayn’s muscles clenched, saw how white his knuckles had become in their death-grip of the table edges, saw his beautiful face become even _more_ beautiful as he approached that place of desperation only Liam could bring him to….

…Then Liam raised his hand again and brought it down _hard_ on Zayn’s arse, again and again and _again_ , three, four, _five_ times, almost becoming brutal, and it hurt but felt so good and _fuck_ , Zayn was going to fucking _come_ from how extremely intense his arse felt— _full_ on the inside and _boiling hot_ on the outside and—

“Holy shit, holy _shit_ , _holy shit_ ,” Zayn garbled.  _And there it was._

Almost without blinking, Liam intently watched Zayn’s face.  “You’re gonna come so fucking hard,” Liam groaned, rubbing his hand under Zayn’s shirt and along his sweaty back before meeting it with his other hand on Zayn’s arse again.  Spreading Zayn’s cheeks open widely, Liam continued moving roughly, almost wanting to pass out from exertion…but _not before he made Zayn come._   “Want you to come so _bad_ , baby, want to fill you up with my cum and make you spill out with it, always make you feel this good—come again and again—”

Zayn was hot.  His body was overheated, he was sweating so badly that his shirt stuck to him, and his arse was on fire in the best way possible.  He was _high_ ….high off of Liam, and Liam was better than any drug out there, hands-down.  _His cock was enormous_.  _His hands were enormous._   Zayn could feel the pleasure from deep inside his groin shoot out to all cells in his body, and he had to let Liam know somehow how _good_ he was, but he couldn’t fucking form _words_. 

“ _Liam_ , fuck!” Zayn cried out, blindly reaching behind him with one arm, holding onto Liam’s bare arse to keep Liam’s cock inside him as he uncontrollably came all over the magazines on the table.

Liam had been on the edge of orgasm _forever_ now, and he let himself succumb to it after seeing Zayn’s mouth drop open in a loud moan, his body clearly trembling underneath Liam’s own.  Zayn rode out his orgasm for a few moments longer, humping the table while Liam emptied himself into his arse with just a manly groan, and both of them stood panting for air for a long time in the aftershocks of what had just happened.

Liam removed himself from Zayn in the gentlest way he could, rumbling in some form of masculine dominance as he saw his own cum drip from Zayn and onto the floor.  Liam then kicked off his boots and jeans and pants, feeling kind of silly for having kept them on the entire time, but he hadn’t cared, and he doubted Zayn had, either.  He quickly folded them and pushed them out of the way.

For a while, only heavy breathing could be heard in the room.

After a long time, Zayn finally stood upright and winced a bit at how sore his muscles were, how wet and fiery his arse was.  He stretched and ran his fingers through his hair, itching for a cigarette but forcefully pushing the craving away because he also had a strange inclination to grab onto Liam and never let go.  Plus, Liam always found it humorous how his smoking patterns were like clockwork—after eating, after sex, while drinking—and Zayn was on a silent mission to prove him wrong. 

“I feel much better now,” Zayn commented in contentment, “and I didn’t even feel bad to begin with.”

Liam chuckled a bit before leaning forward and kissing Zayn’s cheek.  Zayn moved so he was in front of Liam and hugged him.  They held each other like that for a long time, Zayn’s cheek rested on Liam’s chest, both of them just swaying side to side.  It was nice.

“Wanna shower?” Liam finally asked softly.  “Then we can properly go out tonight if you want.  Since it _is_ my birthday and all that…”

Zayn lifted the corners of his mouth and walked a little awkwardly upstairs, being sure that Liam got a good view of his bum the entire time.  Before he followed Zayn, Liam made sure to throw the magazines Zayn had splattered with semen in the bin.  He cleaned Zayn’s house more than Zayn did, he was sure.

 

* * *

 

Liam lay on the bed wearing just a towel when Zayn came out of the bathroom naked.  Liam had his mobile to his ear and was speaking with someone on the phone, and when he noticed Zayn, he smiled at him cheekily as he fully sat up.

“Yeah, ten-thirty sounds fine...Oh, Harry, you don’t have to do that… _Okay_ , yeah, sure…Brilliant!  See you then…”

Liam tossed his phone to the side and looked at Zayn, who’d been just standing there listening to his conversation.  “Let me see your bum,” Liam said.

Zayn turned around and looked at Liam over his shoulder.  He tried to look down at his arse and laughed.  “I can’t see anything.  What’s it look like?”

Liam smiled.  “Gorgeous.”  He patted the area next to him and Zayn took the signal to cuddle in next to him.  “Pink and gorgeous.  You liked it, you said?”

Zayn snuggled in close to Liam and kissed the bit of skin by his nipple.  “ _Loved_ it,” he answered.  “What’s Harry want?”

“Oh.  Funny—all the lads want to go out tonight for my birthday.  And Harry wants all of us to have cake at his place on Monday, as well.  Is that all right with you?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

“Dunno,” Liam answered with a shrug.  “Just making sure.”

Zayn just rolled his eyes.  “ _So_ , I’m going outside for a smoke, and _you_ should go dig out the rum to get your celebration started early.”

 

* * *

 

“Oh, where _is it_ ,” Harry grumbled to himself.

He rummaged around in the drawer for the specific bandana he wanted (he _had_ to have the red one for tonight), shuffling all the other little fabrics to the side, when he found them: a pair of light blue cotton bikini-briefs among a sea of headscarves, boxers, and other random underclothes.

As the underwear certainly weren’t his own, a bad thought ran through Harry’s mind, and he froze.  What the fuck were women’s panties doing with his and Louis’ stuff unless Louis had gotten them from a girl and _saved_ them or something?

It wasn’t until he lifted the underwear for inspection that he realized that they weren’t women’s panties at all.  They were for men.  They had the extra room up front and everything.  Except…the sides were as thin as bikini strings, and the scarce material in the back was hardly enough fabric to cover a regular arse, let alone Louis’. Harry bit his lip just picturing what they would look like on his boyfriend.

And then it _clicked_.

It clicked because Harry had stumbled upon that website Louis had looked at that one time but he’d never said anything about it…something on Tumblr of men dressed up in lingerie… Harry became more and more interested as he wondered if Louis wore these pants sometimes under his clothes without telling anyone.

Louis was in front of the bathroom mirror, styling his hair for their upcoming night out, when Harry walked in still smiling, holding up the underwear in his hand.  “Louis, are these yours?”

As Louis noticed was Harry was referring to, he tried to hold the surprise from his voice, tried not to let his eyes bulge out too much at the surprise.  _Fuck_. 

“Oh, er, might be,” he said noncommittally.  As if they could be _anyone else’s_ , as if it were _no big deal_ that he had a pair of embarrassingly small underwear— _feminine looking_ underwear—that he’d stupidly placed in the drawer that Harry’s bandanas had slowly begun to take over.

Harry looked amused.  “...When’d you get ‘em?”

“Er, I…don’t even know.  They’re old.”

“Like…how old?” Harry asked, still fingering the fabric in between his index finger and thumb, captivated and quite turned on if he was being honest.

“I don’t know… _old_.”

“Oh,” Harry replied, not paying attention to Louis’ shortness.  “How come I’ve never seen you wear them?”

“Harry, I don’t _know_ , I’ve got a lot of stuff that I’m sure you’ve never seen,” Louis said dismissively, growing a little annoyed at the unexpected interrogation.  Or more so, the _topic_ of the interrogation.  He’d been caught.  _Why, oh why, had he put those in that fucking drawer?_

Harry couldn’t let the topic go, however, especially not when the underwear— _panties_ —were so soft in his hand, so tiny, so _intriguing_.  He brought the material up to his nose and smelled, and his nostrils filled with the pleasant scent of fresh laundry detergent—his and Louis’ laundry detergent—and his brain fired off a million things that he couldn’t put a name to.  Harry lowered the underwear from his nose with a fist clenched in desire.

“Don’t smell old at all,” Harry pressed as he stepped closer to Louis.  “Smell like they’ve been recently washed.”

Louis kept looking his reflection, playing with the same tufts of hair again and again as his cheeks grew redder.

“Can’t be too old if they smell like fresh washing,” Harry pressed.  “And if I’m the one who does the washing…and if I’ve never seen these…then what’s that about, Louis?”

Louis looked over at Harry in sudden defiance.  “ _I_ _don’t_ _know_ ,” he said, growing a bit aggravated now.

Harry’s excitement slowly dwindled as he took in Louis’ sudden moodiness, and his smile dropped because Louis was clearly lying.  “Louis…”

“Jesus!  What are you even doing putting your shit in my drawers, anyway?”

“We’ve shared that drawer for ages,” Harry countered, taken aback by Louis’ abrupt defensiveness.  “I was just asking a question…”

“Drop it,” Louis said in a clipped voice.  “Please, just drop it.  They’re fucking pants.”

Technically _, panties_ , Harry wanted to correct. “ _Yeah_ ,” he agreed slowly, trying to be logical, “and I just want to talk about it.”

“About…?”

Harry sighed.  Louis always did this, this beating-around-the-bush thing, like Harry was daft, like Harry didn’t fucking _understand_ him—or worse, _care_ about him.  It was maddening.  Harry’s good mood was quickly leaving.  “About you being interested in wearing panties!”

Louis dropped the comb in his hand.  “What the fuck are you even talking about?”

“Look, Lou, I wasn’t born yesterday, and I really don’t appreciate this,” Harry said firmly, no longer being patient with Louis’ attitude.

“ _What_ , Harry?  Don’t appreciate _what_?”

“You being dishonest with me!”

If Louis wanted Harry to raise his voice, here it was.  He’d done it.  He’d succeeded.  Stupid, stupid, Louis.  “I haven’t lied about anything,” he lied, cringing on the inside.

Harry deeply sighed.  “Well, you _have_ , but…That’s not all dishonesty means.  You can be dishonest without lying.  You can be dishonest by keeping the truth from someone.  From me.”

Louis felt guilty, but he hid it under an armor of incense.  “Just what are you insinuating, may I ask?  What the fuck, Harry?  We’re literally about to go out and you spring this shit on me out of nowhere,” Louis grumbled, picking up the nearby hairspray and busying himself with fixing his hair again.

Harry put his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose and breathed hard to reign in his rising temper.  “I’ve got those thong things that I’ve worn before,” Harry reminded Louis quietly.  “You know?  You haven’t got to be ashamed of anything if that’s why you’re lying.”

 _Yeah_ , Louis scoffed to himself, _so you’ve worn thongs before._   _As a joke_.

Louis sighed to control his feelings—his irritation, his embarrassment.  “Please just drop it,” he told Harry in a small, tight voice.

Harry’s frown turned even deeper, but he _did_ drop it then—dropped the discussion and the actual pants—leaving them there on the floor so Louis would be reminded that _they were so not done discussing this._ “Fine, it’s dropped, Louis.  Dropped.”

When Harry was gone, Louis bent over and angrily shoved the underwear into the bottom of the rubbish bin they kept in the bathroom corner.  

 

* * *

 

Once downstairs, Louis looked around for Harry, finding him in the kitchen taking out his own aggravation on various appliances.

“You haven’t dropped it, have you?” Louis groaned, noting that Harry had taken the time to put on large, yellow gloves up to his elbows.

Harry sighed and audibly placed the bottle of bleach he was holding on the counter.  “I’m having a hard time understanding why, after all this time, you still don’t feel like you can talk to me.”

It was Louis’ turn to sigh.  “ _Please_ ,” he begged, “let’s not do this right now, Harry.  It’s Liam’s _birthday_.  We’re about to go out.”  Louis meant that as a hint that Harry should _take off the bleeding gloves and get ready to leave_ , but Harry turned his back to Louis and picked up his sponge again, scrubbing dirt off the refrigerator in short, angry movements.  “And must you _really_ have to do that now?”

“You never wash up after you play footy,” Harry muttered, “and you come in here, and there’s dirt everywhere—“

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Louis screamed, the loudest he had yet.  “ _Seriously_?  This is _ridiculous_!”

Harry threw the sponge in the sink, a few meters away.  “Yeah, I agree.  It is!”

Louis _could_ turn that back around on Harry _—“See!  You even agree that you’re being ridiculous!”—_ but he was trying to push the topic _aside_ , not start _more_ shit, so he reasoned, “Look, _that_ , up there—“ he pointed to their bedroom “—has nothing to do with you, Harry.”

“Obviously, _it does_!  Why would I be getting so upset if it had nothing to do with me?!”

Louis tried to make something up.  “Because you—because you’re—“

“Hmpf.  You never have a problem speaking your mind when we’re out in the real world—hell, you never _shut up_ sometimes—but the second it comes to something about _us_ , about me and you, you look at me like I’ve got four heads or something if I so much as ask you a few questions, Louis!  Shouldn’t I be the one you actually feel like you can trust?  Haven’t I—“

Louis didn’t know how much longer he could pretend to be calm, especially with Harry being so _rude_.  And so close to touching what Louis wanted to keep hidden.  “You’re bang out of order there, mate.  I really suggest you stop talking before you really fuck up.”

“Oh, _mate_ is it, now?  _And how?!_   How am I out of order for wanting to talk to _my boyfriend_ , huh?  You do this shit all the _time_ , Lou, fucking ignoring important shit, and—and—and it’s frustrating as hell!”

Louis was feeding off of Harry’s mood, and, whether he liked it or not, he was turning defensive.  Majorly defensive.  Aggressive, even.  “You wanna know what’s _frustratin’_ , Harry?  Havin’ someone up your arse all the time about every fuckin’ little thing you do, askin’ questions about every shit-tastic occurrence of your day.  So let me be plain in case you didn’t get it upstairs: _It was just a pair of underwear_!”

To an outsider, the scene would’ve appeared quite comical: Harry gesticulating wildly in his yellow cleaning gloves, Louis trying to heighten himself by standing on his tip-toes, northern accent wildly accentuated by anger, both boys arguing about _underwear_.  But it was so much more than that.

Harry finally lowered his voice, hurt now because Louis thought he was up his arse all the time.  It pained him that Louis thought that.  But…“It wasn’t _just_ underwear.”

“Yes, it was,” Louis argued.

Harry looked like he was having a hard time breathing.  “You know it, and I know it.”

“’Fraid I don’t.”

Harry bellowed, “ _Dammit!_   You do this all the _time_ , Louis!  When you don’t want to talk about something, you get all prissy and— _arghh_ —I get that you have issues speaking about what you want because you’re, like, innately afraid of abandonment, I _do_ , I get it, but come _on_ —you know I’m not gonna judge or anyth—“

“Oh, I must’ve missed where you’d gotten your psychiatric license, terribly sorry, do go on.  Tell me why _I am the way I am_.”

“Stop.  Just stop.”

“You’re the one who wanted this argument, Harry!  You’re the one who started this, mind you, so don’t act like I’m the bad guy here.”

“I just don’t get why you’re keeping secrets from me!”

“I’m not _keepin’ secrets from you!_   Jesus Christ!  Sorry it slipped my mind to tell you about all my pants purchases.”

“That is NOT WHAT THIS IS ABOUT!”

Louis was stoic as he stared at Harry, whose cheeks had turned ruddy at Louis’ stubbornness.  Louis refused to back down, though, no matter how horrible he was beginning to feel.  _Fuck_ , he hated making Harry angry, but….there was no way he was going to tell Harry about those fucking panties.  No fucking way _.  Too embarrassing._

“Sorry,” Harry immediately apologized for raising his voice.  “I’m sorry.  Just, how do I even know that what I’ve been doing is okay with you?  How do I know you’re not just keeping quiet because you don’t want to tell me?”

Now Louis was truly confused.  “What?”

“If there are things like that that I don’t even know about,” Harry said, gesturing upstairs with a gloved hand, “then…how can I be sure?”

“Be sure _what_?”

“Like, how can I trust you to talk to me about what you’re feeling?”

 _Now_ Harry was attacking Louis’ integrity, and that wasn’t cool.  “Forgive me if I haven’t immediately run to you dying to talk about the fact that I’ve basically got a bloody pair of _knickers_ in my drawer!” Louis yelled, as close to a confession as Harry would get.  “ _And_ , mind you, it’s ONE BLOODY THING!  NOT a fuckin’ bucket full of shit I ‘ _don’t tell you_ ’—“ Louis put up air quotes—“so you ‘ _can’t trust me_.’  Have you ever stopped to wonder, _Harry_ , that I might need time to process the fucked up shit that goes on in my head?  Or are you too much of a—”

“I _have_ given you time to process it!  There’s been stuff like that on your search history from _weeks_ ago that I haven’t brought up ‘cause I’ve been waiting for you to—”

Louis stood immobilized and tried not to grit his teeth as he clenched his jaw.  “ _You looked at my search history?”_

Louis was livid.  Harry finally lost his angry demeanor a bit, withdrawing under Louis’ scowl, and his body flopped in the shock of what he’d just said.  “On accident!  But yeah, I….yeah, I did.”

Louis looked like he could murder somebody.  “How fucking dare you.”

“On _accident_ , Louis, it’s not like I was _spying on you_ —”

“I’m leaving.”

“Baby, wait,” Harry said, throwing his gloves on the floor as he stepped forward in pursuit, “no!  Let’s resolve this!  You know I wouldn’t—I _swear_ —”

“It’s Liam’s birthday,” Louis said as he slammed the entry door shut and stomped off without saying another word.  As if that explained it all.

 

* * *

 

Harry seemed to be the last to arrive to the club, and Niall and Liam appeared to already be drunk when he got there.  Zayn was nursing a beer because he was “chaperoning,” and Louis was nowhere to be found.  _Excellent_.

“Hey, mate,” Harry said as genially as he could to Liam,” happy birthday!  I’ll give you your gift Monday, but put all your drinks on my tab tonight, yeah?”

“Oh, wicked!” Liam shouted too loudly.  “Thanks, Harry!”

Harry smiled tightly and looked at Zayn.  “He having a good time, then?”

“He’s probably not going to remember it, but yeah,” Zayn laughed.  He assessed Harry quickly; something was off.  Before he could question it, however, Harry had already turned to walk to the bar.

After standing on a barstool, Harry finally saw Louis and Niall dancing and laughing together at the other end of the room.  If Harry didn’t know Louis so well, he would’ve been afraid to approach him after the row they’d just had, but...he _did_ know Louis.  Well enough to know that sometimes they got in stupid arguments that simmered away just as quickly as they came.  He still felt a little nervous, however, as he walked closer to Louis, knowing that things would probably still be a bit prickly from earlier.

“I got you something,” Harry said, holding out one of Louis’ favorite cocktails in a bit of a peace offering.  Louis assessed it and just held his own beer up so Harry could see and walked away.

Harry stared incredulously at Louis’ retreating from before coming to his senses and following him.

“Hey!  Hey, Lou!” Harry hollered as he tapped on Louis’ shoulder.  “Can we talk for a minute?  Outside, maybe?  Please?”

Louis had moved deeper in the crowd, and, with bodies everywhere and lights flashing and the music becoming louder, things were becoming hard to see and hear.  All Harry processed was Louis walking away from him again, so _again_ , he pursued.

“Can I just ask what I’ve done?  Like, what exactly did I do wrong?”

Louis whipped his body around.  “I can’t believe you.  _Nothing_ , Harry!  You’re fucking perfect!  You can literally do no wrong!  So just fuck off and go do the perfect things you do somewhere else!”

“What the hell is going _on_ with us?  Why are we even fighting?”

“We wouldn’t be fighting if you’d just fucking leave,” Louis spat.  “I clearly don’t want to talk to you right now.”

“But this is mental!  If we just _talked_ , we could—”

“Oh, just fuck off with all your talking bullshit!” Louis yelled in frustration.  “That’s all you want to do!  I _don’t_!”  Louis’ face changed then, turning a bit dismayed.  “I don’t want to talk, okay?”

That hurt as much as a slap would, and Harry stood frozen upon hearing Louis’ clear dismissal.  Louis himself left, though, choosing to disappear with Niall again somewhere, and Harry looked to the floor.

Well, shit.  He’d gone and really pissed off Louis, and that hadn’t been his intention at all.  He just wanted to talk about the bloody pair of panties— _truly_ , that was it.  And he _had_ come upon all that stuff online by accident!  He was trying to look up recipe he’d found from a long time ago, and it wasn’t _his fault_ that Louis had left a ton of websites uncleared for Harry to click on…

Harry eventually trudged away from the dance floor and moodily sat at a side table, staring into the two drinks he now had to himself and trying not to look up every five seconds to find where Louis’d gone to now.  Louis was hyper tonight, darting this way and that, dancing, chatting, being the outgoing person he naturally was.  Harry would’ve been amused had he not known that Louis was only acting that way to cast out his problems, or at least refuse to face them at the moment.  Ignoring Harry was Louis’ number one go-to when he and Harry were arguing, only because he needed time to let his anger dissipate and allow the real feeling underneath to make itself known.

Regardless of the fact that Harry _knew_ this, knew it like the back of his hand, it was still frustrating.  And it still hurt.

Harry took out his mobile and foolishly texted Louis.

 **Hazza [23:00]  
** I hate it so much when we argue

Then he realized that Louis would probably take that the wrong way, would probably think it was Harry being narcissistic and only thinking about himself or something, could picture Louis reading it and getting more angry, like _“and I don’t?!”_ so Harry spent a long time choosing the right words and—

 **Hazza [23:05]  
** I just mean…I never want to hurt your feelings and I’m sorry for pestering you earlier…I’m truly very, very sorry.  And I honestly wasn’t snooping.  I found the online stuff by accident but respect you and was just waiting for you to maybe talk to me about it.  That’s all I want is just to talk to you.  We can talk it out…just…text me back please?  I love you baby, I just want to make this right.  I hate to see you upset.

While everyone else dispersed and enjoyed the music, Harry sat alone and drank at the speed of a man stuck in the desert, just waiting for Louis to text him back.  Louis never did, and from time to time, Harry tried walking around a bit to seek him out, but, as it was a huge club, Harry was unlucky.

Off and on, some of the boys would sit with him at the table he’d taken over, confused about what he was doing alone, but Harry, charmer that he was, played everything off like he was having a blast, just letting Louis dance because he himself wasn’t feeling up to it tonight.  Eventually, everyone got so drunk that they stopped being worried, but Zayn still came by to chat every now and then.

Liam was giddy, the drunkest and cutest anybody had ever seen him.  He danced his way over to Zayn at Harry’s table, and Zayn smiled.  “Havin’ fun, then?”

Liam’s eyes crinkled as he nodded his head in response, and Zayn’s face almost melted at how adorable he looked right now.  His thoughts turned naughty as he thought of exactly how _opposite_ of adorable Liam could also be.  Zayn’s arse _was_ still sore.

“You being all sweaty makes me think of earlier,” Zayn whispered in Liam’s ear.

Liam backed up and smirked at Zayn.  “Yeah?  How ‘bout a second go when we leave here,” Liam replied, reaching out to squeeze Zayn’s bum.

“Watch it,” Zayn said as he moved out of the way of Liam’s touch. 

Liam pouted.  “Don’t tease…”

Meanwhile, Harry had drank entirely too much too quickly, and his world had turned blurry.  He didn’t care.  At least his mobile wasn’t blurry.  It was still on the table, not a single text from Louis lighting it up the entire night.

 **Hazza [00:17]  
** please say something

 **Hazza [00:37]**  
i am sorry i really am for everything i didnt mean to make u mad and i didnt mean to hurt u and i know u dont want to talk but god i just love u so much and i cant take this im very very sorry

 **Hazza [00:46]**  
u know that i didt meant anything earlier i just had qustions and wasnt judging if that’s  
  
 **Hazza [00:47]**  
sorry if thats what u think   u know I wouldnt judge

 **Hazza [00:55]**  
you are the love f my life, and im SORRY, im sorry im sorry im srrry

Zayn looked over Harry’s shoulder where he had his messages to Louis open—all just of Harry’s many texts, none from Louis.  Zayn knew he shouldn’t, but he read what Harry typed out, and he felt stupid for not realizing sooner that something was going on between Harry and Louis.  _Great_.

“I’ll be right back,” Harry suddenly told Liam and Zayn.  He stood up wobbly.

Zayn was concerned.  “You sure you don’t wanna take a break?  Sit down and drink some water?”

Harry ignored him and walked to the bar, ordering another drink before thoughtlessly walking right into the crowd of dancers.  He was going to find Louis, and he was going to fix things.  If Louis wouldn’t look at his phone, then he’d just have to listen to Harry pour his heart out face-to-face.  As his eyes darted around the crowd, he practiced what he was going to tell Louis—wonderful, poetic words of love that would have Louis swooning in seconds, Harry was sure of it.

However, the second Harry spotted Louis, all of his good intentions flew out the window.  Louis was dancing, and a guy was beside him, crouching over and speaking into his ear.  Harry watched the scene for a few seconds while his stomach churned, and the second the man wisped his fingers along Louis’ shirt, Harry jumped in there, placing a strong hand onto the taller man’s shoulder and pushing him aside.

“He’s got a girlfriend, you know,” Harry snarled in the guy’s ear.

“Oh?  Could’ve fooled me,” the person replied easily, smiling drunkly around the straw his was sipping his drink with.  “I still fancy me chances.”

“No,” Harry said roughly.  “You don’t get it.  _He’s not available_.  And he doesn’t want you.”

The bloke stared at Louis’ arse longingly before just shrugging.

Louis was obviously drunk and had only just noticed Harry pushing away the person he’d become mates with when he rounded on Harry.  “Wh—Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“Dancing,” Harry answered, standing stock still save for his arm which he moved in order to gulp down his drink.  “It’s Liam’s birthday, after all.”

“Liam’s not even here.  Why don’t you run off and find him, then, so you can dance with _him_?”

“Good question,” Harry replied, biting back his true response of _you’re my fucking boyfriend, I want to dance with_ you.  “Why don’t you take your own advice?”

“Please go the fuck away,” Louis said firmly.

“ _Why_ , Louis, so you can dance with other blokes?!”

“I’m not dancing with anybody but me fuckin’ self, all right?  Just—God!  Stop fuckin’ shit up and just get off my fuckin’ case for once, _fuck_!”

“Louis, just because you’re angry with me doesn’t mean you can blatantly try to make me jealous—”

Louis was done. “I _wasn’t_!  He’s from fuckin’ Yorkshire, we were just chatting—“

Harry shook his head violently.  “Yeah, chatting _up_!  He had other intentions.”

“You’re such a caveman,” Louis groaned.  “So fucking unbelievable.”

“I’m _not_!  You’re being naïve ‘cause you’re drunk and you’re clearly not thinking properly—“

“ _I’m_ drunk?!  Are you quite finished insulting me?”

“I wasn’t insulting you!  I just—”

Zayn came out of nowhere then, pulling Harry back.  He’d been steadily leaning more into Louis, lost in the passion of the moment, and _they couldn’t do that here_.  A fight in public would be worse than _affection_ in public, and the repercussions of that dismayed Zayn.

Zayn got Harry a safe distance away from Louis and separated the two boys with his arms.  “Louis, mate, run along and find Niall, yeah?”

“Gladly.”

Louis excused himself with a turn of his heel, and as Harry watched him go, he stomped his foot.  “Zayn!  Come _on_ , man, he hasn’t talked to me all night, and—“

“And he’s in no position to, if a serious chat is what you’re after,” Zayn said, dragging Harry back to his prior seat.  “He’s pissed, mate.  And you don’t look like you’re too far from catchin’ up to him.”

“Yeah, _and_?” Harry asked moodily, laying his head on the table and frowning.  “I just want to talk to my fucking boyfriend.”

“I see that,” Zayn said, craning his neck to find _his_ boyfriend.  He found Liam at a table of random people nearby, and somehow he’d found a party hat to wear.  “But we can’t make a scene here tonight.  Whatever’s happened between you two…I mean…it’ll be okay.  It always is.”

“He’s never going to talk to me again.”

Zayn rolled his eyes.  “What did you do?”

“Nothing!”

“Then how does that even make sense?”

“He hates me.”

“If you’ve done _nothing_ , I’m sure he doesn’t hate you.”

“You don’t get it.”

“No,” Zayn said honestly, “I really don’t.  Care to explain?”

Harry shook his head.  He was aggravated with Louis, yeah, but in addition to that, he was now deeply, _deeply_ depressed because he just realized how fucked he was.  Louis was never going to forgive him.

“Do you just want to be alone?”

Harry nodded, and before Zayn reached Liam’s new table, he turned around and saw Harry popping the ice chips from his drink into his mouth glumly, staring at his phone for the messages from Louis that would never come.

 

* * *

 

Liam was beginning to stumble, and Zayn decided it was probably best if everyone just called it a night.  Spotting Niall at the bar— _hadn’t he been there for quite a while?—_ Zayn and Liam approached him and told them they were leaving.

“Bunch of fuckin’ cunts won’t give me any more beer!” Niall hollered at Zayn when he came into view.  It was clear that Niall was drunk, and the barman’s face was stony as Niall leaned in to yell to him.  “Payin’ fuckin’ patron, I am—they wouldn’t fuckin’ do this in Ireland—a fuckin’ pint more ain’t gonna do shit—“

Zayn assessed the situation with anguish.  They were going to get kicked out.

The man looked intimidating and shouted over the bar, “You kiss your mother with that mouth, pal?”

“No, but I kiss yours,” Niall said good-naturedly and laughed.  The barman didn’t.

“Right then!  We should go,” Zayn immediately interrupted, clapping Niall on the back and steering him to the exit.  “I’ll text the lads outside…Niall, come _on_ , stop struggling, we’re leaving.”

Niall kept trying to walk back to the bar.  “But let’s say goodbye to our new mate!  Mates give mates beer—”

Zayn interrupted, “Rather we didn’t, Niall,” and practically drug Niall out of the club, thankful that they weren’t being followed.

“Where’s Liam?” Zayn asked once they were outside.

“Here,” Liam said from behind Zayn.

“Oh, you followed me, good,” Zayn said in relief.  Zayn ducked out of the way of a very sloppy kiss-attempt from Liam and turned it into some sort of drunk-blokes-on-the-pavement-roughhousing.  Zayn was suddenly very happy that he hadn’t gotten as drunk as everyone else—or drunk at all, actually—because, apparently, everybody else was _pissed out of their minds_ and acting like a bunch of toddlers. “Now, to find the others…” he said to himself.

Literally _seconds_ after Zayn texted Harry and Louis, Harry appeared outside, meeting the others and looking dreadfully grumpy.

“What’s wrong now?  Where’s Louis?” Zayn asked.

“I don’t know,” Harry said moodily.

“What’d’ya mean, you don’t know?” Niall asked. “We need him, he’s our mate…our _band_ mate, haha!”

“I mean,” Harry said, sounding progressively more upset, “I don’t know where he is!  Doesn’t want me to find him, won’t look at his damn mobile, so…”  Harry kicked the brick wall with his boot.  “I don’t fucking know.”

Zayn sighed heavily.  “I’ll go in and find him.  Lads, stay here.  Don’t do anything stupid.”

Liam and Niall were sharing some story, so Zayn doubted they even heard him, but he went inside again, anyway.  Inside, the air was hot again, too many bodies sweating in too small a space, everyone _shit-faced_ at the late hour.  Zayn carefully walked around the swarm of people grinding on each other to look around for Louis, and luckily, he wasn’t hard to spot.  As he could’ve predicted, Zayn found Louis moving about in the middle of the dance-floor, and he put a hand on Louis’ shoulder once he squeezed his way beside him.

 “Zayn, hey!” Louis yelled over the music.  He grabbed Zayn’s hands and loudly said, “Dance with me! You’ve not danced with me all night!”

Zayn shook his head and shouted over the bass, “We’re leaving!” to which Louis looked affronted.  “C’mon, Lou, everyone’s outside, we’ve got to go.”

“I’ve not got to go anywhere,” Louis replied loudly, dropping Zayn’s hands.  Zayn stepped in closer and bent his head to hear Louis better.  “I can leave when I feel like leavin’, can’t I?  Don’t need anyone tellin’ me to go home.”

Zayn examined Louis’ face; he had become a sloppy sort of drunk, angry at nothing.  Zayn began steadily moving the unnoticing-Louis to the side of the dance-floor where it was a bit easier to talk.  “What’s wrong, man?  Really?  Why are you acting like this?”

“Like what?” Louis asked as he brought the bottle of beer he was holding to his lips.  “I know where I live.  I _pay_ for it.  I don’t need four people to help me get there.”

Zayn was taken aback by Louis’ belligerent attitude.  “Look, mate, bloke-to-bloke, you’re sort of acting like a knob,” he said.

Louis huffed, turned his head, and began walking back to the crowd of dancers, but Zayn reached out and found his arm.  With a venom that Zayn hadn’t seen from him in a long time, Louis pulled his arm out of Zayn’s grip and seethed, “Don’t you even _dare_.  I can make my own fuckin’ choices, okay?  If I wanna dance, I can dance.  If I wanna drink, I can drink.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t!  It’s just—it’s almost three in the morning, and I don’t know what’s going on with you and Harry, but he’s outside about to have a full-on strop about you!  And don’t you—don’t you even care?  Don’t you wanna—“

“So, let him be stroppy, then!  He obviously doesn’t give a fuckin’ damn about _me_!” Louis yelled uncontrollably.

“Come on, Louis, it’s _Harry_. You know he cares about you.”

“Yes, it’s _Harry_ , because Harry’s _so_ fuckin’ _flawless_ ,” Louis sang with the beer bottle to his lips.  “I’m sure he’s been talkin’ all sorts of rubbish out there, but search your facts before you just believe shit, Zayn, because _contrary to popular belief_ , he makes mistakes sometimes, as well!  He can be a dick, too, it’s not just me with that title.”

“I didn’t say any of that, either,” Zayn grumbled.  Deciding that reasoning with Louis in his current state was pointless, Zayn lowered his voice and asked, “What do you want me to do, then?  Just leave you here?”

“What do you think?”

Zayn ignored Louis’ sarcasm and said, “Honestly?  I think you should come with us, but…” Zayn shrugged.  “It’s your life, as you so clearly have said.”

“My life,” Louis repeated.

“Just be smart, man,” Zayn said as Louis began dancing back to the middle of the club.  “And look at your bloody mobile!”

Everybody looked to Zayn like he had been gone for hours when he re-met them outside.  “He said to go on.  Doesn’t want to leave.”

“We can’t leave without Lou!” Niall shouted. “Lou’s my boy!”

“He’s _my_ boy,” Harry argued petulantly.  “ _I’ll_ go in and get him,” he volunteered.

Zayn grabbed Harry’s collar. “Not a good idea.”

Harry fought his way out of Zayn’s grip and dashed into the club again, right into the middle of the dance-floor.

Harry froze once he found Louis.  He was dancing like he was having the time of his life, like he had something to prove.  He was the center of quite a few people’s attention, and Harry forcefully tried to push aside all the negative feelings he had about that.  After all, Louis often took the spotlight when he entered a room.  He was radiant.  It was only predictable that other people would be magnetized to him.

Harry walked towards him and glumly tapped him on the shoulder.

Louis’ face was mean when he noticed Harry.  “I don’t want to talk to you.”

Harry wanted to cry—out of sadness, anguish, aggravation, _failure_.  “We’re leaving.  Are you sure you’re not coming with us?  I don’t want you to be alone.”

“It’s what I’ve wanted all night,” Louis said, still dancing.

“Right,” Harry said sadly.  He was done fighting.  “Look, I’ll take the sofa tonight—“

“Why?  So you can track when I come in?”

“ _No_ , Louis, so you can have the bed.”

“My hero.  We’ve got guests rooms.”

“Okay, then,” Harry said dejectedly.  “I’ll take one of those.”

“Is that all you wanted to say?”

Harry reached out to touch Louis but withdrew his hand at the last minute.  “I just, I hate this.  I never meant for this to happen, any of this.”  Harry’s voice cracked as he neared the end of his sentence, and he stomped his foot on the floor to emphasize how unhappy he was with himself, how utterly stupidly he’d handled things tonight.

“You want to leave, then _leave_!  Nobody’s stopping you.”

Louis kept on dancing like that was it.  Conversation over.  No _“I love you,”_ no affection at all.  They were in public, so it wasn’t like they could do or say that anyway, but the way Louis had just _shut Harry out_ …it hurt terribly.

“Right,” Harry said to himself. 

The boys were already stepping into the taxi when Harry dragged his legs out of the building, and he squeezed in the cab, as well, right before the driver took off, barely closing the door before he began sobbing.

Everyone exchanged slightly worried glances as Harry rested his head against the glass of the window and did a bad job at hiding his crying.  “This is the worst fight we’ve ever had,” he sniffed miserably. “Sorry for ruining your birthday,” Harry apologized to Liam beside him.

“Come here,” Liam said, reaching out his arms.  Harry leaned over and hugged him self-indulgently.  “No, you haven’t ruined anything.”

Suddenly, the boys were startled apart by a loud banging on the windowpane.  It was Louis.  He was crying.

From the passenger seat, Zayn turned his head around at the sound. “For fuck’s sake,” he muttered, a steady line of cigarette smoke leaving his mouth as he spoke.

Niall immediately lowered the window, and Harry wiped his eyes to make sure he was seeing clearly.

“Let me in!” Louis sobbed, yanking on the door handle.  “Don’t go, please, don’t go without me!  _Let me in_ …”

Niall opened the door for him, and Louis sloppily deposited himself on top of Niall’s and Liam’s laps.

The driver was fortunately unfazed, used to chauffeuring drunks around London at odd hours in the morning, and he waited for Louis to situate himself inside before accelerating, not even caring that there wasn’t a true spot for him to sit.

Niall turned up his nose at a sudden smell in the car.  “Uggggh, Louis, your feet fuckin’ reek!”

“Where are your shoes?” Zayn asked.

“I don’t know,” Louis said with a shrug, sniffling.  “Ran here…fell off.”

Harry had no inhibitions at this point, so he rested his hand on Louis’ leg and leaned his body into Louis’.  “Oh, I’m so glad you came with us, Louis,” Harry said, tears still falling from the corners of his eyes.  “And I love your feet.  No one loves your feet like I do,” he said with a huge sniff.

Louis ignored Harry, and while Harry made a few more attempts to get Louis to talk but failed, Niall and Liam spent the rest of the ride laughing at things they had done or seen in the club.  “And _imagine_ —my birthday is soon, too!” Niall was saying, happy despite all the madness around him.

“Are you gonna ignore me the whole night?” Harry asked miserably once the taxi arrived to their house and everyone got out.

“Why’s everything gotta be about _you_ , huh?” Louis grumbled once he stepped inside his home, all of his rage returned at full-force.  “You haven’t said one thing all night about how _I_ might be feeling, how _you’ve_ _made_ me feel—“

“I’ve texted you all night _long_ , Lou!  That’s all I’ve wanted to do was to talk about your feelings!  I’ve said sorry— _all night!_ —and you’ve ignored all of my texts, and you’ve—that really hurt my feelings.”  Harry began crying again, and he couldn’t help it.

“Oh, throw the fucking rattle out the pram, Harry,” Louis spat, struggling to walk.  He tripped over all of his shoes that were carelessly piled in the foyer, something Harry always nagged him about—

“Shit, Louis!” Zayn shouted.  “Your _foot_ , man.  It’s bleeding everywhere.”

“I was just saying,” Harry continued, “that I’ve been trying to talk about your feelings literally all night, and I—”

Zayn was on his hands and knees, wiping up Louis’ foot with a wet napkin, and Louis held it out for him carelessly as he interrupted Harry. _“I, I, I, I, I!  Jesus_ , can your head even fit in this room, Harry?”

“I _care_ about you!  Is that so wrong?”

Zayn ran out the room to find a plaster—“ _What the fuck did you even step on, Louis?”—_ while Louis continued to yell at Harry.  “You show you care by fighting with random people I meet at a club?  ‘Cause that’s—”

“—I wasn’t _fighting_!—“

“—bloody possessive to the extreme, and quite frankly, it’s stifling!  I can’t even _dance_ without you—”

“He’s a stranger—a complete wanker—touching you like he—”

“He didn’t even touch me,” Louis argued, his foot leaking blood on the kitchen floor now, “and even if he did, I could’ve handled it!  You’re jealous over everything I do!”

“How can you even _say_ that, Louis?  Think about Liam and Zayn.  Think about _that_ , huh?  I am _so_ not jealous!  In fact, I’m the _opposite_ of jealous—“

Louis put his hands on his hips, not tending to his wet, blotchy face.  “And you’re quite certain about that?”

“Come on, Louis!  I let Zayn suck your dick— _twice_!—it’s not like—“

“What the hell?” Niall asked.

“Harry, Louis,” Liam interrupted, “everybody’s happy, lower your voice, boys—”

Louis interrupted Liam’s interruption.  Loudly.  “You didn’t _let_ him do _shit_ , Harry!  He just _did_!  It’s no ‘ _you’_ involved.  You don’t own me, you know, and you don’t own Zayn, and you don’t own Liam.”

Harry fish-mouthed.  “I—I.  I didn’t mean it like that.”

Zayn returned to the battle grounds and bandaged-up Louis’ foot, crestfallen when he noticed Louis had begun crying again.

“I don’t even care,” Louis said as he turned away, wiping his stinging eyes.  “You’re _mean_.  You’re a _mean_ person.”

“No!  No, no, no!  I’m not mean!”

Harry attempted to step closer to Louis to hold his hands, but Louis retaliated.  “Don’t touch me.”

Harry’s hands clapped against his jeans as his face contorted with a fresh set of tears.  “I didn’t _mean_ it like that!  You can do whatever you _want_ , Louis!  I’m not trying to say I own _anybody_!  I know I don’t _own_ you, or Zayn, or Liam!  I was just making a point!”

“A stupid point.”

“No!  _A good point._   A point that you can do whatever you want to, and if you want to suck Zayn’s dick, then suck Zayn’s dick!” Harry shouted.

“Whoa,” Zayn said from the floor, “When did we start talking about this now?”

“I meant,” Harry continued, crying heavily, “like, I _care_ about you!  A fucking _lot_!  That guy was a right tosser, Louis—I just was taking care of you!  That’s all I meant!”

Niall loudly shouted over everybody, “What is going on?!”

Zayn tried to intervene.  “Harry, everybody’s quite, _quite_ pissed at the moment.  Louis loves you, and you love Louis, but could you perhaps leave the room so we can get this under control and calm him down?”

“ _I_ can calm him down,” Harry sniffed.  “I—He’s _my_ boyfriend, I can—”

“Literally, what the fuck is going on?” Niall asked again.

Liam said casually from the counter where he was perched and swinging his legs, “Well, we all fuck—”

“I’ll tell you later,” Zayn told Niall with a sigh.  He stood up and turned to Harry.  “You really need to go to bed.  You’re upsetting—he’s upset right now.  _Please_ , mate,” he begged.

Harry growled—fucking growled—but turned away loudly wailing.  Zayn sighed and followed after him, and Louis fell into Liam’s arms, his shoulders shaking as he sobbed onto Liam’s shirt.  Niall stared at the scene in stoic, drunk confusion.

“Mate,” Zayn said once he caught up to Harry.  “Mate, you know we’re not trying to take him away from you or anything, don’t you?”

Harry wasn’t even looking at Zayn, just kept sadly looking at Louis crying in Liam’s arms.

“Don’t you?” Zayn persisted.

Harry’s cheeks became moister as more tears trailed down them.  “I just want him to turn to _me_ , and I didn’t mean to upset him at _all_ —I _swear_!—and he won’t—listen to—me,” Harry finished lamely, choking on how hard he was crying.

“He will tomorrow,” Zayn said softly, steering Harry up the stairs.  “Once the alcohol’s out of everybody’s systems, you two are going to be singing a completely different tune.”  _The tune of shame._   “Harry, you need to breathe.  You’re going to hyperventilate.”

Harry got to his room and collapsed on his bed, hugging a pillow to himself and crying himself empty.

“He thinks all I think about is myself,” Harry wailed again and again.  “I don’t, Zayn, I _swear_.  I didn’t _mean_ it like that…Don’t think I _own him_ …Just wanna take _care_ of him…”

“Shh…”

“He’s all I’ve got and I’ve fucked it up,” Harry blubbered.  “I fucked it up, I fucked it up, I didn’t even mean to do anything wrong…”

Zayn waited it all out, and he cuddled up to Harry and kept trying to soothe him the best he could until Harry eventually fell asleep from exhaustion.

When Zayn left Harry’s room, he felt like he had endured the longest evening of his life, and it wasn’t even over yet.  Downstairs, he saw Louis, Liam, and Niall sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor passing around a bottle of vodka, and he sighed.

“No, it’s just, I’m such an arsehole,” Louis said roughly, crying just as hard as Harry just now, “and he puts up with _everything_ , and I still treat him like _shit_.”

“You don’t treat Harry like shit,” Liam said.  “You’re in love with him.”

“But I treat him like _shit_ ,” Louis repeated, putting the bottle to his lips and gulping from it.

“So you two got in a fight,” Niall said.  “It happens.  All of us row sometimes, and we get over it!”

“We’re all very drunk,” Liam slurred wisely.  “It’ll be okay tomorrow.”

Louis shook his head.  “He’s going to leave me.”

“He’s not going to leave you,” Zayn said huffily, joining the group on the floor.

“What did he say?” Louis immediately asked. “Did he say anything?”

Zayn frowned at how perked up Louis was to hear from Harry.  “What do you think he said?  Louis, you _literally_ just saw him fighting me to be with you, yet you’ve been ignoring him and pushing him away all night.”

“Yeah, well, I’m angry with him.”

“Clearly.  But why?” Zayn asked simply.  Louis was silent.  Zayn sighed.  “All right, _don’t tell me,_ then.  Whatever it was, I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding.”

Louis sniffed.  “And how are you so sure?”

 _Because he’s up there blaming himself and you’re down here blaming yourself_ , Zayn thought.  “It always is with you two.  Listen, Louis.  You two are both stubborn as shit when you want to be—you especially, and you know it—but you two love each other so much.  It’s sickening.”

Liam laughed.  He felt bad that Harry and Louis were so sad, but it was his birthday, and he was drunk and happy and stupidly in love with Zayn.  “’S true.  Zayn and I talked about it once,” he said, hiccupping by this point, “and we b-both were, like, so… _into_ you and Harry in the beginning.  The beginning of _us_ , you know.  Beginning of me and Zayn.  Like, just seeing you two together.  And being all, being all cute together.”

“Eloquent,” Louis replied, snatching the vodka back from Niall.  Then _Zayn_ snatched it out of Louis’ hands and took a huge drink from it, laughing when Louis stared at him in open-mouthed betrayal.

“We did, though,” Zayn agreed with Liam.  “You two are meant for each other.  And you know it.  It’s plain to see.  He’s not going to leave you, Louis.  There’s no way.”

“I’ve said some really bad things tonight,” Louis whimpered.

“Sometimes people say things they don’t mean,” Zayn simply retorted.  “Tell him you’re sorry, be open with him.  He’ll do the same.  I know he will.”

Liam nodded his head.  “And then you’ll have the best sex of your life.”  He reached forward and blatantly touched Zayn’s crotch, rubbing it in a crude up-and-down pattern with his hand.

Zayn slapped his hand away and took another sip from the bottle in his hand.  “Hands off, babe.  You already got some before we went to the club.”

“Jesus,” Niall uttered.

“Yeah, _some_ ,” Liam said with a wicked grin, leaning in to kiss Zayn.  His mouth tasted like pure alcohol.

“You,” Zayn said as he was being kissed, “are,” another kiss, “sloshed.”

“So?”

Zayn laughed against Liam’s mouth.  “Think you can even get it up?”

Niall began whistling.

“I’m going upstairs to Harry,” Louis said, witnessing Liam and Zayn kissing and growing sadly nostalgic.

Zayn nodded but sighed as he wrestled Liam’s hands off his body.  “Just don’t get defensive with him, okay?  Like I said, just be open and honest with him.”

Louis scoffed. “I don’t get—”

“You’re about to do it now,” Zayn pointed out with a smile.  Louis just sighed and stood up, bracing himself to lay down his arms once he got upstairs.  He was tired of yelling, tired of crying.

“Okay, so now that he’s gone,” Niall said, watching Louis until he disappeared upstairs, “what the hell happened tonight?  And what the hell have I been missing out on with you lot?”

 

* * *

 

Harry had been dead-to-the-world when Louis crawled into bed with him, so Louis just pressed his body behind Harry’s and fitfully fell asleep, too, clutching onto Harry’s shirt like it would save him and wash him in forgiveness.  They both woke up at the same time in the morning because Harry had accidentally forgotten to switch off his alarm on his mobile, and when they groggily opened their eyes, they looked at one another easily before everything from the night before rose to the surface and they both looked away shamefully.

Louis looked like shit; Harry looked shittier.  Their faces were swollen, their eyes red, their mouths stale, their heads sore.

“Ughhhhhhh,” Louis groaned.

Harry tentatively reached out and brushed Louis’ stomach with his hand.  When Louis allowed it, Harry let himself relax and burrowed his head into Louis’ neck as he fanned out his fingers on Louis’ tummy.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked quietly.

Louis just nodded, wishing nothing from last night had happened at all.  His voice was scratchy when he asked, “Are you?”

Harry just made a little noise, like “eh,” as in, no, not at all.  “I’m already up, so…er, I guess I’ll put the kettle on.”

Louis said, “Okay,” quietly, timidly.

When Harry reached the kitchen, he groaned.  There were blotches of blood— _blood_ —scattered across the tile, empty beer bottles and a spilt vodka jug all over the worktop, and just a really, really bad odor of what Harry guessed to be vomit.  He began tidying everything up as the water boiled on the stove. Hungover or not, it was automatic (and a bit of a distraction) to pick up.

While scrubbing the floor, Harry heard Niall groan from the lounge, so he peeked in on him.  Niall had passed out on the recliner still wearing all of his clothes, no blanket on him or anything.  His white Adidas stuck out in different directions, and he had his mouth wide open.  Normally, Harry would’ve smiled.  He was too upset with his behavior last night to do anything other than grimace.

“Here,” Harry said quietly, placing the cuppa on Louis’ nightstand gingerly once he walked back upstairs.

Louis lifted it gratefully to his lips.  “Thanks.”

They were both tip-toeing around last night’s events, but Harry had to clear his conscience.  “I know you’re mad at me, and I know you can’t feel well at the moment, because my head hurts like hell…but I’m so, _so_ sorry.”  He slowly met Louis’ downcast eyes.

“I’m the one who should be apologizing,” Louis feebly replied.

Harry shook his head and then winced at the pain that inflicted.  He took his tea and set it down by his side of the bed as he settled under the covers again.  “No, Louis,” he said imploringly, touching Louis’ stomach again, “I…I can’t tell you how wrong I was.”

Louis sighed.  “We’re both sorry, then.  But _I_ was the cunt, so…”

“No,” Harry whispered, cushioning his head on his pillow again.  Louis followed suit. 

“Why are you even talking to me after how shitty I’ve been to you?”

“Well, I was quite shitty, too, Louis…”

Louis’ face scrunched up in a certain way—his eyes knit together and his mouth turned downwards in his signature _cry face_ —and Harry looked at him in deep concern.

“ _Hey_ , hey,” Harry whispered, moving Louis’ fringe out of his face.  “I’m _so_ sorry—”

“I just feel like crying,” Louis said brokenly, thinking it absurd that he had anything left inside to even come out.

“Okay,” Harry softly replied.  “…Would you like me to go?”

Louis shook his head as his bottom lip began to quiver.

Harry opened his arms. “Can I…can we…?”

Louis wordlessly shuffled his body to fall into Harry’s arms, and though Louis smelled of stale alcohol, Harry held him tightly, breathing him in and rocking him slowly.  Louis immediately began bawling into Harry’s chest.

“I _swear_ , I didn’t mean _anything_ I said last night, I swear, even if I—even if I can’t remember s-saying it, I s-swear I didn’t _mean_ it—”

“Shh,” Harry consoled desperately, rubbing his hand up and down Louis’ back. “I didn’t mean anything, either, sweetheart, I love you, I love you so much, you have to know—”

“ _No_ ,” Louis continued wetly, “I was such a dick, I’m such a dick—“

“You’re not,” Harry soothed, “you’re not at all, at all—”

Harry was mildly surprised when Louis lightly hit his chest with a balled-up fist.  “ _Stop_ , Harry!  Stop being so _nice_!  I’m _awful_ to you,” he cried.

“We were both very drunk last night, Louis,” Harry said firmly.  “It was all the alcohol.  I said things I didn’t mean, you said things you didn’t mean—”

“But I was horrible before I even got drunk,” Louis sniffled.

Harry sighed and tried to shift so Louis could see his face.  “So was I.  It’s okay, Louis.  We’re talking about everything now, aren’t we?  It’s okay.  I love you.  It’s okay.”

“I love you, too, but stop _saying stuff like that,”_ Louis whined miserably. “It just makes me feel _worse_.”

Both Louis and Harry settled more onto their pillows and looked at one another as Harry asked, “But…how could that possibly make you feel anything but happy?”

“Because you’re so nice and I’m _shit_.”  Louis’ head, already aching from alcohol, began to pound at the strength of his crying.  “You’re saying that I’m allowed to be a complete arsehole and it’ll be fine?  You’ll just be the most perfect person _ever_ about it and forgive me for being terrible to you over and over and over?”

Harry looked sternly at Louis when he scolded, “ _You’re not shit_.  And you’re not terrible to me.  Don’t say that about yourself.  I’m serious, I don’t ever want to hear you say bad things about yourself ever again.  I don’t like hearing lies about the person I love.”  His voice was scratchy as he went on, “I’m _not_ saying that you can be an arsehole whenever you want and I’ll just stand there and take it or whatever.  Because you’re not an arsehole.  I’m just saying that I deserved it last night.  I’m saying that _anybody_ would’ve gotten angry if they were cornered like that before going to a club, of all places,” Harry corrected.  “I was an idiot to think that before we went out to _celebrate_ was a proper time to discuss something serious like that.”

Louis noticed that Harry’s eyes were getting glossy, too, so he reached out and wiped them as Harry kept talking.  “I…I’m very, very sorry.  I really am.  I just pestered you like mad.  I was mental to do that before a night out, or _at all_ , really, and…and, _shit_ , I didn’t mean to look at your search history, I swear, but I should have told you, and  it’s my fault you got upset in the first place, and why both of us drank so much, and…yeah.  I’m sorry.  None of that was my intention, I _swear_.”

“You’ve done nothing to apologize for, Haz.  But I forgive you,” Louis said in a tiny voice.  “I hope you forgive me, too, I really do.  I—I’ll stop being so—I’m sorry for having an attitude all night—and I’ll fix it.  I’ll _fix it_ , I promise,” he desperately appealed.

Harry grabbed Louis’ hands and sniffed.  “ _No_ , I don’t care.  I don’t care.  That’s who I fell in love with.  I fell in love with a stubborn, head-strong, _smart-mouthed_ boy with an attitude.  I didn’t enter this relationship wanting to change anything about you.  I love _you_.  There aren’t any conditions.”

Louis nodded, his eyes finally drying up a bit.  “But still…”

Harry sighed.  “Yeah, _still_...Listen.  When it comes to communicating,” he continued, “that’s like, that’s like a fundamental part of a relationship, any relationship.  And we really need to work on it.  I won’t ever do that to you again, grill you with so many questions all at once like that, I can promise you that.  But you—”

“Need to stop getting defensive,” Louis finished for him.  “Yeah, I know.”

Harry softly looked at Louis and tried to smile a bit.  He didn’t know what else to say, so he resumed playing with Louis’ hair as he waited for Louis to speak again.

“Can I tell you something?” Louis asked.

“’Course,” Harry said, tucking a long piece of hair behind Louis’ ear.

“This is going to make no sense at all.”  Louis heavily sighed.  “But…here goes.  So like, you’re perfect.  You’re the most perfect person I think I’ve ever met.”

“Ditto.”

“—And sometimes I have a hard time realizing that yeah, you’re actually real.  And you actually _fancy_ me.  After all this time, I still can’t believe that,” Louis said with a little laugh.  “And I always end up falling back into my old habits, my old ways of thinking, and I start thinking all this horrible, horrible shit.  Like, he’s only with me because of _this_ , or that’s not what he really feels; he’s only saying it to make me feel better.  Because, deep inside, I really just don’t see why someone like you would even want to stay with someone like me.”

Harry looked on with the most pained look on his face.  “What does that even mean, ‘ _someone like you_ ’?  Of course I want to be with someone like you, baby.  You’re my favorite person in the world.”

Louis smiled sadly.

“What have I done,” Harry asked immediately, “what have I been doing to make you think this way?  Just—just tell me what I can do to make it better.”

Louis shook his head.  “It’s not _because_ of you, Haz.  It’s me.  It’s all me.  You _help_.  That’s all you do is help.  You always say the nicest, sweetest things.  You’re the best boyfriend.  The best _person_ , really, I think I’ll ever, ever meet.  This is just shit I’ll have to sort out on my own.”

“I can help you,” Harry offered.

“I just told you that you already do,” Louis said, sticking his tongue out a bit. 

Harry was silent for a minute.  “Well, good.  But…I want to do everything I can to make it better.”

Louis shook his head again.  “Really, Harry, this is my baggage.  I’m the one that needs to do stuff to make it better.  Because I _can_.  I have the power to stop being so defensive just because I’m afraid.”

“Afraid?”

Louis rolled over onto his back.  “Yesterday…before we left to go out…you said something about how I’m afraid of abandonment.  And…Christ, you’re always just so _attuned_ ,” he laughed quietly.  “So right.  All the time.”

Harry raised his eyebrows and made a curious noise.

“I’m…I’m not scared of abandonment, Harry.  I’m _terrified_ of it.  ‘S why I’ve never been in a proper relationship with anybody but you.  Not that I—“

“I know,” Harry interrupted, “go on.”

“Maybe it started with my birth father, I don’t even know.  I don’t care, honestly.  But it’s there.  And I just…I couldn’t deal with it if you ever left me,” Louis admitted with a broken voice, his eyes growing watery again.

“Baby, _never_ ,” Harry said, pulling Louis in close again.  “Never, ever, ever.”

Louis cried in Harry’s arms for a few minutes, finally getting the last bits out.  Harry held him and kissed his head the entire time.

“I get defensive because I’m scared to death that you’ll find something out about me that’ll make you want to leave,” Louis admitted.  “And I don’t know _why_ because you’ve never—you would never do that.  And I know I always say that I’ll work on it.  But I’m serious,” he promised intently.  “I’m going to _work on it_ this time.  I don’t want a repeat of last night.”

Harry blew air out of his mouth.  “No kidding.”  After a few moments, Harry shifted in Louis’ arms.  “Not to drag this on cause I know it drives you mad to talk about one topic for so long—“

“No,” Louis interrupted, wiping his eyes, “it doesn’t.  Honest.”

Harry smiled.  “But I…Speaking of things to work on, I’ve got quite the list.”

“Oh, please.  What are you talking about?”

“My jealousy, for one.  I’m working on it, though, but it still makes you mad.  You think I’m…I’m arrogant.”

Louis rolled his eyes at himself.  “ _No_ , not at all.  I don’t.  I said all that to make you mad.  I didn’t mean it.  Any of it.”

Harry blinked.  “Really?”

“Really.  I like when you’re a little possessive.  Like, like that guy talking to me?  Total knob-head.  I’m _glad_ you stepped in to make him go away.  I like…” Louis looked away as he spoke, “I like having someone to rely on.  Because there aren’t many.  I like knowing you’re always there to take care of me.”

Harry started chuckling out of nowhere. “Well, you sure had a lovely way of showing it.”

Louis laughed then, finally feeling a little lighter for the first time in what felt like ages.  “Oh, don’t even get me started on how possessed you looked last night.”

Harry shrugged easily.  “He was getting too close.”

Louis snuggled in close to Harry again, smiling gratefully.  “You are the most selfless man ever, Harry Styles.  You’re not fucking _arrogant_.”

“Yay,” Harry happily replied.

“I’m sorry I’m a spiteful di—”

“We’ve said sorry enough, baby,” Harry interrupted softly.  “Do you think we can…Can we talk about what started this?” he asked quietly, reaching up to run his thumb along Louis’ sharp cheekbone.  “Or…?”

Louis sighed and tried to sink into his pillow.  “I’m shit at talking about stuff like that.”

“You aren’t once you get past the awkward part of just saying it.  You know you aren’t.  We’ve talked about _so_ much stuff like this, baby,” Harry said lower.  “You know I’m not going to judge you. _Or_ leave you.  And most importantly, I will never make you feel bad for something that makes you happy.  Ever.”

Louis breathed in heavily and exhaled.  “Just…just…you just want me to talk about what I like about it, or…?”

Harry nodded.  “Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Okay,” Louis said shakily.  “Erm, well…sometimes, I like… _God_.  Okay.  Sometimes I think about me… dressing up—nothing mad!  Like, just…just… _panties_ , and…and stuff like that.  And you telling me I’m pretty, and being really sweet with me, and that’s…that’s it, I guess.”

Louis couldn’t even look at Harry after that.

“And what’s so bad about that, hm?” Harry asked as he moved Louis’ head back.  “How on _earth_ could you think I’d have a problem calling you pretty?” he lightly teased.

“ _Harry_ ,” Louis groaned.  “The panties...and the…the other things I’ve been looking up…”

“If it’s something you want to wear, then wear it,” Harry said with a shrug.  “And for the record, I like it, too.”

Louis was quiet for a while.  “You swear you’re not just saying that?”

Harry shook his head.  “Of course not.  We can just start slow if you’d like.  Just the panties first.  I mean, if you even want to do that.  I… _I_ would want to do that.”

Louis let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.  “Wow,” he commented, shaking his head side-to-side slightly.  “Shit doesn’t normally work out like this, does it?”

Harry smiled.  “If you’re us, it does.”

“If you have a Harry, it does,” Louis corrected.

“If you have a _Louis_ , it does.”

Louis grinned and looked at Harry, genuinely _looked_ at him.  “I just want to be good for you,” he said breathily.  He didn’t know where that came from, but he wanted Harry to know.

“You’re always so good,” Harry said deeply, chastely kissing Louis.  Dry, cracked lips, and all.

Louis shuddered as Harry removed his lips.  “You always take such good care of me.”

Harry beamed. “’Cause I love you.”

“No, listen.  You always take such good care of me.  And I…I never say thank you.”  Harry was going to say _“But you do,”_ but he let Louis continue.  “So…thank you,” Louis said sincerely.  “Thank you for always being here, all the time, and for giving me what I need, all the time.”

“You’re welcome,” Harry whispered slowly, pulling Louis in as close as he could and snuggling him.  Louis turned around in his arms to spoon, and, as they were both still quite exhausted, they slept away the rest of the morning together.

 

* * *

 

“So you two’ve already worked things out?” Zayn asked the next day.

“Yep,” Harry responded happily, putting spoons into all the little concoctions he’d cooked for Liam’s party.

“What did I say, Li?” Zayn asked.  “Didn’t I say it would just take one day?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry said evasively.  “Lou?” he shouted from the kitchen.  “Where are you?”

“Already here!” Louis shouted from outside.

“He’s already in the garden,” Harry said to everyone as if they weren’t able to hear themselves.  “Okay, everyone, go sit down and I’ll bring all the food out there.”

Since there were at least half-a-dozen dishes, Liam wordlessly grabbed a bowl and began walking outside.

“Stop helping, it’s your birthday,” Harry chided. “But Niall, could you get—?”

“ _Yes_!  You made my favorite!” Niall exclaimed, lifting the container of chicken and carrying it outside.

Liam rolled his eyes—“You don’t even _have_ a favorite, you like everything”—and walked to the garden empty-handed.  As he took his seat at the head of the picnic table, he smiled stupidly upon seeing that his chair had balloons on it and that his spot was bedecked with horribly-wrapped presents.

Harry finished putting everything on the table and, when he looked satisfied, proclaimed, “Yayyy, birthdays!  Dig in!”

Niall immediately filled his plate with anything within reach, and Harry looked expectantly at everyone to make sure they thought everything was good.  Meanwhile, Louis conspicuously unfolded his napkin and placed it on his lap, trying not to laugh at the look of confusion on Liam’s face.

“Why have I only got a spoon?”

Harry turned his head to Liam.  “Did I forget a fork?  Sorry, I thought I counted them all—” 

Two seconds later, when Harry realized that he _had_ counted them all and that Louis was looking extra obvious, Harry smiled and met Louis’ glinting eyes.  Louis let the laughter he was holding back escape his lips, and Zayn smirked.

“Twat,” Zayn said, reaching out to Louis’ pocket and pulling out the fork Louis had hidden there.  He gave it back to Liam after a quick kiss on the lips, smiling all the while.

“Just little old me, all by meself,” Niall stated.

 

* * *

 

“Go online, pick out whatever you like, and buy it,” Harry had told Louis the week before.  After discovering that Louis would be more comfy starting out with just wearing women’s undies before jumping into any other type of dress-up, Harry was keen to make that happen.

“We do live in London,” Louis reminded.  “Shops everywhere, you know.”

“Well, you _could_ go to a shop, I suppose,” Harry answered thoughtfully, “and risk being photographed.  Buying knickers.  Up to you.”

Louis grimaced.  “Oh, I can see the headlines now,” he said with hands splayed-out reading an imaginary magazine-title.  “ _’Louis Tomlinson Spotted Shopping for New Mystery Lady._ ’”

“’ _Is The Tommo Leaving The Band to Elope?_ ’” Harry outrageously added in a funny voice.

“Ugh, you’re right.  I’ll be rumored to have three wives by the morning.”

“Yeah, and watch there be a picture of Gems or something they put you with,” Harry had laughed.

Louis couldn’t stand the thought of being on the cover of some stupid magazine looking through _dump bins of knickers,_ so he took Harry’s advice and perused Victoria’s Secret’s website that night.  For hours.  He had asked Harry to look with him and help him choose something, but Harry elusively smiled and told him he wanted Louis to pick out whatever he wanted on his own—no outside influences.

So Louis did.  He felt a rush like never before as he confirmed his order on the site, and later, he received a very thorough blow-job from Harry for being good and going through that experience without any embarrassment.  Harry then had Louis track the order, and Louis was excited to find that his new panties would arrive by post that Friday, just two days.  Harry tapped Louis on the nose for being so cute and obviously eager about everything, and after they fell asleep that night, Harry had lurid dreams of Louis fingering himself while wearing lingerie.

Friday morning finally came, and after cooking breakfast for Louis, Harry dismissed himself from the house to give Louis “time to himself” before their special night.  While that was _true,_ yes, he was actually going to the Post Office to pick up all the things _he’d_ secretly ordered online for Louis.  Things that would warrant a second shoe box to fill, he was sure.

Harry had been gone all day, and Louis had already bathed, shaved, _and_ gotten Lou to pop in for tea and cut his hair.  Now all that was left was the actual _underwear_ part, and Louis slowly walked to the end of his bed where he had placed his special package that morning in order to keep it in eyesight all day long.

Somehow, he’d managed to make it this long without opening it, choosing instead to immaculately groom himself, and now, as he opened his parcel and moved the packaging tissue to the side, he dropped to his knees as his purchase was at last revealed.  He lifted the panties with delicate fingers and bit his bottom lip completely into his mouth as he grinned.

It was just one pair—he hadn’t wanted to get in over his head just yet—but _wow_. _Wow_.  They were tiny.  They were _tiny_ , tiny, tiny, light pink and lacy and _tiny_ , and they were _his_.  He was going to _wear_ them.

Because he thought his arse would look good in them, he had ordered a thong, but now that he was _seeing them_ , he was slightly concerned that he’d perhaps gotten something a bit _too_ small.  Maybe Harry would appreciate something that wasn’t so skimpy for the first time they were doing this…something that covered his bum more… He began thinking that maybe he should’ve gone to other websites, like ones with actual _men_ wearing panties if there even was such a site out there like that.

Still, _he_ couldn’t help fancying the panties quite a bit, and he was hard— _so_ hard—just standing in front of his closet mirror naked, about to put them on for the very first time.

His legs were newly-smooth, and he turned putting on his panties into a sort of self-foreplay, letting the lace drag along the silky expanses of his thighs before pulling them all the way up and dropping his mouth in awe upon seeing what he looked like.

It was an interesting struggle to fit his erection _and_ his testicles into the scant triangle of lace he had to work with, especially because his cock just seemed to be growing the entire time he tried.  He settled with letting his hardness rest to the side, somewhat bulging out of top of the panties along with his balls peeking out down below, but somehow, it all still looked right.

And, more importantly, it looked _good_.

Louis turned around and looked over his shoulder at his bottom reflected in the mirror.  His arse was completely bare, pale compared to the rest of his tan skin, and the thin little invisible string of his thong rested snugly in between his arsecheeks, capped off at the top with a little whitish bow.  Louis used his hands to spread his arsecheeks open, and he was captivated by how aroused the sight made even _him_.

He just hoped Harry would like it, too.

Louis continued staring at himself in the mirror for a very long time before finally putting on a pair of soft pajamas and making his way downstairs.

Now he could only anxiously wait on the sofa for Harry’s return, and the silent minutes passing just made his dick more sensitive against the lacy fabric clinging to his genitals.  He wasn’t supposed to touch himself, but he was pretty sure a few more rocks on the edge of the couch and he’d be coming in his panties, and _then_ Harry would spank him, and Louis didn’t want a spanking out of disobedience.  He wanted to be good.  _Always_ be good.  He stopped moving, biting his lip painfully to try to feel a sensation other than the prickling of arousal that just wouldn’t go away.

Louis jumped as the front door opened some time later, and he scrambled as he stood up and turned to face Harry with his hands submissively clasped behind his back.

“ _Loooou_ , I’m hom—” Harry sounded out, distracted momentarily by the arm-full of shopping bags he was trying to drop on the floor.  At the end of his sentence, he noticed something red out of the corner of his eye, and he turned his head to where Louis was standing in silky, red pajamas.

“Oh,” Harry said, speechless, his belongings falling to the floor and tipping over.  “Oh, _wow_ , Lou.  Your hair.  You’ve gotten a trim.”

Louis was suddenly very, very shy.  He looked to the floor and could swear that Harry could hear his heartbeat as it throbbed loudly in his ears.  He could _feel_ Harry’s gaze on him, feel Harry devouring him with just his eyes.

Harry stepped closer and smiled.  “And your face.  All smooth and shaved.”

Louis lifted his head to meet Harry’s eyes.  “D’you like it?”

“Baby,” Harry whispered, still smiling hugely, reaching out to caress Louis cheek, “’like’ is an understatement.  You look unbelievable.”

Harry hugged Louis then, just encased him and breathed him in, and— _fuck_ , Louis smelled really, _really_ good—squeezed him to show him how much he’d been missed all day.

“Pajamas?” Harry smiled after leaning down for a soft reunion kiss.  “Does that mean you’re ready for bed?”

“Something like that,” Louis answered with bright eyes.

“Run along, then,” Harry ordered, popping Louis on the bum.

“Come with me.  Please.”  Louis grabbed Harry’s hand and dragged him up the stairs with him.  “Come _on,_ Harry, you’re too slow.”

“Is that right?”  Harry moved even slower up the stairs then, dragging his legs up one by one and making Louis giggle. 

“ _Harry_ , _up_ ,” Louis whined, pulling on Harry’s arm, “Up, up, up.”

Harry stopped moving completely and leaned against the banister of the stairs.  “Someone’s impatient.  You know what I always say about being impatient, Lou,” Harry reminded.

Louis sighed softly.  “Yeah.”

“And what might that be, love?” Harry asked, his jaw moving from chewing his gum.  “Oh, what _is_ it again?  That—”

“That impatient boys don’t get to come,” Louis said quietly.

Harry smirked at Louis. “You’re not impatient, though, right?  You’re just excited.  You’re going to be good from now on, aren’t you?  Going to be the _best_.”

“I’ll be good,” Louis agreed as he stepped down to the step Harry was on and began playing with the hem of his shirt. “I swear I’ll behave.  I just—I’m sort of nervous.”

Harry’s smirk turned into more of a soft smile, and he squeezed Louis’ hand and led _him_ up the stairs then.

Louis lay on the bed silently while Harry undressed, and he watched Harry go through his routine of removing his necklaces, then his flannel, then his undershirt, until finally standing bare-chested before Louis.  Louis stared at the line of pubic hair visible above Harry’s boxers and low, low jeans as Harry finally returned his attention to Louis on the bed.

Harry— _cocky bastard_ —raised his eyebrows cheekily upon noticing where Louis’ attention was and finally settled in beside him after spitting out his gum.

“You look amazing, baby,” Harry had to say again as he ran his hands along Louis’ clothes, his skin.  “But let’s take this off, shall we,” he muttered, unbuttoning and removing Louis’ shirt while Louis lay there almost catatonic at what was happening.  “You’re like my little present I’m unwrapping,” he said.  “The best, most priceless little present.”

Louis shuddered out a breath and gave Harry a shaky smile, excited but still anxious.

“Relax,” Harry gently reminded with a smile.  Louis listened and bit his lip as he melted deeper onto the mattress. “You’ve been biting your lip since I got home, love,” Harry said.  “I need you to stop.  It’s mine to bite now.”

Louis let his bottom lip free, and it seemed to pout at Harry as Harry lowered his lips to take the flesh in his mouth.  He and Louis snogged for long, slow minutes until Harry shifted down the bed a bit, kissing his way down Louis’ stomach.  He could tell Louis was hard, but he had no idea what to actually expect underneath Louis’ clothes, and Harry’s breathing quickened in eagerness as he got closer and closer to Louis’ crotch.

Louis put a finger in his mouth and bit it faintly—half-nervous, half- _thrilled_ —as Harry put his hands on the elastic of Louis’ pajama bottoms and slowly unveiled the treasure underneath.

Harry gasped when he finally saw what Louis looked like in his see-through panties.

“You’ve shaved here, as well,” he noted quietly, staring at how bare Louis’ skin was underneath the sheer lace.  No pubic hair at all.  He ran a single finger along the delicate panty-lines in between Louis’ thighs and at the tops of his legs, shuddering when he realized that Louis had actually shaved his _legs_ , too.

Harry ogled, unmoving, for a very long time.  It wasn’t until Louis fidgeted under Harry’s scrutiny that Harry finally moved his eyes from Louis’ crotch to meet his eyes instead.  Harry slightly shook his head in disbelief.  “You’re unreal,” he whispered.  “Absolutely gorgeous.”

Louis smiled down at Harry then, a _real_ smile, a big smile—one that made his eyes light up so bright, Harry swore they were twinkling.  “You…like it?”

Harry loudly swallowed and nodded.

“Really?”

Harry couldn’t answer, for the second Louis had asked, Harry had already rushed his body upwards to crush his lips to Louis’.  He was trying to be soft and gentle for Louis’ sake, but some things just weren’t always possible when you looked as _good_ as Louis did.  Harry moaned against Louis’ mouth as he pushed his own jeans down and off, and he forced himself to not fuck Louis right then, choosing instead to gently rock himself against Louis’ cock through only the material of his boxers and the thin panties Louis wore.

“ _Christ_ , you don’t understand how unbelievably sexy you look—you are,” Harry whispered, looking down between their bodies where their erections were touching.  Harry was overwhelmed with the feelings he was experiencing.  He wasn’t used to feeling so fuzzy, so lust-ridden and so close-to-coming this early on.  It was just—he just couldn’t get over how much Louis looked like he did when they first met, so soft and little and _fuckable_ , and he just wanted to baby Louis and always make sure he was happy.

Harry lifted a hand to touch Louis’ cheek, cradling his jaw in his large palm and running his thumb along Louis’ reddened bottom lip.  “You’ve got me so hard already,” he said incredulously.  “Feel it?”

Louis swallowed and nodded.  Harry found Louis’ hand and guided it to the outside of his boxers, wanting Louis to actually _feel_ how aroused he was, and Louis wrapped his tiny hand around Harry’s cock and moaned along with Harry at how firm and unforgiving it was in Harry’s pants.

Louis didn’t do anything else besides hold Harry there, squeezing gently, and the moment was heavy.  “I’ve thought about you being inside me all day,” he finally whispered.

Harry’s breath was hot on Louis’ face.  “Me, too.”

Louis continued whispering, “I—I’ve put these on ages ago, hard for you forever…thinking about you fucking me with them on…”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Harry groaned as he took both of Louis’ hands in his and entwined their fingers by the pillow under Louis’ head.  He delved his tongue into Louis’ mouth again, addicted to the smooth glide of Louis’ tongue dipping underneath his own, mixing saliva, mixing flavors.  He absolutely _ravished_ Louis’ mouth, slicking up Louis’ tongue as his hips began rutting against Louis of their own accord.  Harry pulled back and began to pant from exertion already.

As he dropped his forehead on Louis’, Harry resumed moving his hips, humping Louis slow and deep like they did when they first began dating.  He wasn’t even ashamed that they weren’t unclothed yet—hell, it made everything hotter—and Harry was sure that just the feel of Louis’ smooth legs wrapped around his waist would be enough to bring him over the edge in no time.  _God_ , he still couldn’t get over that Louis had _shaved his legs, fuck_.

When Louis threw his head back with a loud moan, Harry moved a hand to trail his forefinger along Louis’ throat, down the line of his esophagus, over his Adam’s apple.  His hand turned slightly to cradle Louis’ throat then, and he held it lightly in his hand while kissing Louis again, softer this time.

“You’re so _lovely_ like this…underneath me, so pretty, such a pretty boy for me.  God…”

Louis moaned again, that beautiful sound Harry would never tire of, and Harry _felt_ it around his palm, felt the vibrations from his throat, and Harry groaned, deep and low, as he forced his hips to stutter to a stop.  Knowing he had to remove all stimulation from Louis or he’d come, Harry gently rolled to the side to just caress and admire Louis again instead.

“ _Harry_ ,” Louis whimpered.

“Shh, love,” Harry said, kissing Louis’ plumped and red lips.  “Be good.”

Louis nodded but couldn’t help the way his eyes kept darting to his own cock, throbbing inside his lingerie with pre-cum steadily brushing against his stomach.

“Got something for you,” Harry said quietly, reaching in a box Louis hadn’t noticed on the nightstand.  It was a very small box, and Louis sat up to see its contents better.

“For me?”

“Just for you, baby,” Harry answered.

Harry removed the object from the box, something so small that Louis couldn’t even distinguish what it was.  When Harry twisted back towards the bed, Louis saw it then, but he still had no clue what it was.  The thing fit on the pad of Harry’s index finger, black, minutely small, and very strange.

“What’s—”

“Close your eyes and relax,” Harry instructed.  “Just wanna make you feel good.”

Harry’s voice was firm but always so loving.  Louis just always wanted to do what Harry said, so he closed his eyes and let himself relax back into the sheets as he heard the odd thing on Harry’s finger begin to softly buzz.

 _Oh_.

Harry trailed his finger along Louis’ skin torturously slowly.  Starting at his shoulders, he traveled down each of Louis’ arms before moving the vibrator to Louis’ chest, causing his skin to tickle and burn wherever it went.  Harry moved the toy to one of Louis’ nipples until it became erect and firm, goosebumps rising on his areola, and Louis’ chest heaved with the strength of his breathing.

Harry moved the vibrator to the other nipple then, around and around, teasing that one to hardness, as well, while latching his mouth on the other and sucking hard.  Louis moaned and wiggled a bit, trying to get closer to _Harry_ , not just his finger.

“ _Be good_ , baby,” Harry whispered around Louis’ nipple.  Louis nodded, but Harry noticed that his hands were clenched tightly into fists by his sides, directing his arousal by digging his nails into his palms.  “You can hold my head if it’ll help.”

“’kay,” Louis said softly, lifting a hand to spread his fingers out in Harry’s long curls.  He was trying his absolute best to be patient for Harry, to be on his best behavior for Harry.

Harry continued the descent of his finger, slowly down the rest of Louis’ chest, down his stomach where the muscles there clenched, then over the elastic of his panties until the vibrator touched Louis’ cockhead.  Louis thrusted his hips involuntarily and pulled at Harry’s hair as he sounded out.

“Sorry,” he immediately apologized.  “I’ll stay still, I’ll be still.”

“Mm,” Harry just replied, biting at the nipple he was still licking until removing his mouth and sliding down Louis’ body to see Louis’ cock better.  It was curved to the side, barely even able to fit into the small lingerie he wore, but it was still there, hard and veiny inside such delicate, pale pink lace.

Harry moved the vibrator just under the head of Louis’ cock, right on his frenulum, that little area that drove Louis mad, and began making small little circles there.  Louis squeezed Harry’s hair a little harder but otherwise remained immobile.

“Look at you being so _good_ for me, baby,” Harry whispered above the light vibrations of the toy.  “Wonder what Zayn and Liam would think if they saw you like this…Not that they would ever get to, hmm?  This is just for me to know about, isn’t it?”

Louis responded, something high-pitched but inaudible, his head thrashed back and his arms now splayed beautifully at his sides.

Harry softly tutted.  “Don’t murmur, sweetie.  I want to hear all the pretty sounds you make.  Since I’m the one they’re for, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Louis replied, twisting his hips up softly to sneakily get the vibration from Harry’s finger to spread.  Harry noticed, and in response, he applied firmer pressure there and watched Louis’ mouth fall open.

“You can move now, baby.  Want you to come,” Harry whispered.  “Gonna watch you get messy for me.  Just from my finger.”

Louis immediately began rolling his hips up, staring at the vibrator on Harry’s long finger and at his own visible hardness through his panties, thinking of how quickly he was going to dirty them up already, without even being really _touched_.

“Gonna make a mess in your knickers, baby?”

“ _Oh_ ,” Louis moaned, his abs clenched tightly as his pelvis moved progressively faster upwards, “ _yes_...”

Harry started to change the rhythm of his finger to counter Louis’ movements, smiling indulgently at how fast Louis was going to come.

“I need _more_ , _please_ , _oh, oh_ , I’m _empty_ ,” Louis begged. “Something… _in me_ …”

Harry moved his other hand between Louis’ legs and pressed against Louis’ arsehole with just a knuckle.  The pressure alone was enough to make Louis moan in pleasure, however.

“You like that, baby?  Tell me what it feels like.”

“ _Ah_ , so good, feels so good,” Louis moaned, “ _fuck_ , _Daddy_ …”

Harry immediately lifted his head, his ears perked up, eyes alert, finger removed from Louis’ cock.

Louis’ eyes popped open.  “Oh, _God_ ,” he groaned, shaking with how close he was to just coming but now absolutely mortified.  “I—I didn’t—just forget I…“

Harry scooted his body up a bit and kissed Louis’ stomach.  “Say it again.”

Louis had a pained look on his face and looked aside; Harry’s fingers reached up to Louis’ chin and gently moved his face back.  Softly meeting Louis’ eyes, Harry whispered, “Say it again, baby.  Please.  I liked it.”

Louis made a face and shook his head.  “It’s weird…”

“Nothing’s weird with us, baby.”  A few silent seconds passed, and Harry added, “I’m the only one that has to know, yeah?”  He looked at Louis meaningfully after that, and Louis nodded shakily and breathed out air through thin lips.

Harry turned off the toy on his finger and flicked it aside as he inched back up the bed.  He scooped Louis in his arms, thinking back to that book that he’d recently gotten back from Liam, the one that he and Louis had re-read together, thinking maybe that was where Louis had gotten the word from… 

Whatever the reason, something had clearly been in Louis’ brain for him to unconsciously let that slip just now, so Harry had to get Louis back to that headspace.

“Daddies are supposed to take care of their babies and keep them safe, right?” Harry asked kindly.  “Do I keep you safe?”

Louis nodded, unsure how to actually feel.  He was positively aching with desire, yet he was still embarrassed at the same time.  “Yeah…”

“Stop thinking so much and just answer, love.  Do I take care of you?”

“Yes,” Louis answered with a larger nod.

“Say the word while you answer me.”

Harry could hear Louis breathe heavily after he asked that. “Yes…Daddy.”

Harry smiled and sensuously kissed Louis’ lips.  “Sounds so good when you say that.”  He began rubbing soft circles on Louis’ tummy, the skin a bit firmer now than it used to be but still so perfect to Harry. “But guess what?”  Harry’s voice was now quiet, low and so, so deep.  “I know something _extra_ important about Daddies.”

“Wh-what’s that?”

“It’s that they love their babies.  And I love my baby very, very much.”  Harry smiled beautifully and stage-whispered, “That’s you.”

Louis turned his eyes upward to Harry’s strong but tender gaze. “I love you, too,” he said, smiling goofily.  “…Daddy.”

Harry kissed the tip of Louis’ nose before snaking his hand down between Louis’ legs, over his panties, and to his arsehole, just touching.  As Harry’s hand brushed over Louis’ cock, he noted, “Can’t believe you’re this hard, baby.”

“You made me that way,” Louis whispered. “Daddy.”

Harry cradled Louis’ face in his hand and kissed him, trying to transfer with his tongue every bit of love with which he was possessed _into_ and _through_ the mouth of the fragile and beautiful boy he was holding.  He and Louis snogged until Louis got wormy and Harry began making his way down south again.

“Gonna eat out your pretty hole now, baby, get you all wet.  You want that?”

“God, yes,” Louis whispered.

Harry smiled.  “’Course you do.  Can you do something for me?”

Louis nodded.

“I want you to call me Daddy all night.  If you remember to do that, you can come anytime you want.”

“O-okay.”

Harry situated himself in between Louis’ legs and ran his hands up and down Louis’ thighs, feeling with his fingertips and then with his face just how smooth the skin there was.  It even _smelled_ good, like Louis had put on lotion, and the notion that Louis would _prepare_ so extensively for tonight… _God_.

He crooked a finger into the string nestled in between Louis’ arse cheeks, pulled the fabric forward then to the side, and lowered his mouth.  The first lick was perfunctory, sultry yet dry against Louis’ tense, pink hole, but as Harry’s tongue progressively made Louis wetter, Louis inadvertently spread his legs so Harry could flatten his tongue and lick him more easily.

Harry was gentle— _so_ , so slow, so gentle—and Louis’ little whimpers just supported Harry’s pace, just made him want to savor Louis for hours and open him up so slowly, so completely.

Once Harry darted his tongue inside for the first time, Louis was overcome with the feeling to move his arse—that’s all he could think of doing, moving back and forth, back and forth on Harry’s tongue.  His hips ached terribly with the need to grind.  “Daddy,” Louis moaned prettily.  So, so prettily. “Can I—Can I move?”

Harry pulled his tongue back into his mouth and assessed Louis’ face.

“Such a dirty boy I’ve got,” Harry said, pulling on the material between Louis’ legs so that it snapped against his hole.  “You want to grind on Daddy’s tongue, don’t you?”

Louis nodded and bit his lip.

“Stop biting.”

“Sorry, Daddy.”

Harry moved to Louis’ side and lay on his back then, looking over at Louis lustfully.  Louis thought Harry was done licking him out, and he whined.

“But, _Daddy_ , I’m sorry, I won’t do it again—”

“Shh, shh.  Come here.  Sit on my face.”

“ _Oh_ …”  Louis was shocked, but he sat up and looked curiously at Harry, his curls lying flat on the pillow.  “Er…how…how do you want me to be?  Daddy?”

“Straddle my chest and turn to face the other way.”

Harry had Louis sit on his chest first so Harry could get a good look at his arse from behind before rimming him again.  Louis wordlessly followed Harry’s instructions, and as Harry looked ahead and saw the ribbon tied at the top of Louis’ thong, he clutched Louis’ arse cheeks in his hands and muttered, “Holy shit…Can’t fucking believe you, pretty little thing…”

Harry’s dick was standing straight up in the boxers he wore, and that was all Louis could stare at as he felt Harry’s fingers prod against his spit-slicked entrance again.  Harry eventually moved his hands to Louis’ thighs and told him to back himself up, so Louis did, still staring longingly at Harry’s outlined cock as he awkwardly raised his arse and settled himself onto Harry’s wet mouth with a shuddery moan.

Again, Harry moved Louis’ panties out of the way as he stuck out his tongue and continued to fuck into Louis’ arse with it, prodding it as deep as it would go until eventually Louis truly began riding it.

Louis moved his hips exaggeratedly, wanting Harry to see how pretty he could be, how much he loved being good for Harry, his _Daddy_.  Already, he was close to coming again, and his moans were growing _loud_.  Harry had told him to be loud though, so he wasn’t doing anything bad.  He was being good.  And that meant he was going to _get to come_ , so he kept making high-pitched noises that Harry could listen to.

“Almost there, Daddy, I’m almost there,” he panted, reaching his fingers up to pull on his nipples as his body rose and fell.

Harry groaned steadily in reply to Louis, but he couldn’t actually say anything, so he dug his nails into Louis’ thighs and forcefully pulled Louis’ hips down _hard_ , making him stay still, making him have to rock on Harry’s whole face instead of just ride his tongue.  Harry lapped inside him easily now, his arsehole loose and sloppy-wet against Harry’s mouth, and Harry felt Louis’ legs begin to shake around his face.

Harry couldn’t think of a time where Louis had ever let this happen before.  They’d tried it once, but Louis had been quite uncomfortable, too worried about crushing Harry and being in such an odd position to really enjoy himself.  But _now_ …Now Louis was positively _losing it_ on top of Harry, calling out every other second and clenching his arse muscles against Harry’s face and covering Harry’s face in saliva and _fuck_.

“ _Harry_ ,” Louis said, high and loud, and he was _going to come so, so soon,_ but this almost felt so good that he didn’t want to _ruin_ it by coming just yet….

Harry made an unhappy noise and tried his best to slap Louis’ arse.

“Sorry—Daddy,” Louis said breathlessly, “oh, oh, _Daddy_ … _uuhhgnn_ ….”

Harry could just moan and groan against Louis’ arse, not able to breathe and not _caring_ , just staring at Louis’ arse jiggling against his face each time he rolled his hips back and forth, at that fucking _bow_ placed so prettily above the moving globes of Louis’ fat arse, and shit, Harry hadn’t even been touched yet and he was straining not to come.

And unexpectedly, without warning, Louis pivoted forward along Harry’s lithe body, pulled his pants up and over Harry’s erection, and dropped his mouth onto the tip of Harry’s cock.  Harry bucked his hips up in surprise.

 _His naughty boy_ , overcome with the need to have Harry in his mouth.  Louis couldn’t fit much of Harry's cock inside at the angle he was laying, but Harry was so horny that he still allowed it, even pushed his own hips skyward to shove more of himself in Louis’ mouth while Louis rocked himself faster and faster against Harry’s tongue.

Harry could feel the resonance of Louis steadily moaning on his cock until suddenly Louis removed his mouth completely.  “ _Shit_ , I’m gonna— _oh_ , can I come?”

Harry backed away for a breath and mumbled, “Ask properly.”

“God, Daddy, it _hurts_ , _please_ , can I come?”

“I want you to, baby,” Harry cooed, latching his mouth back onto Louis’ arsehole and sucking and licking and kissing and fucking all the same time.

Louis dropped his head to Harry’s stomach and bit the skin there as he violently came into his panties, quaking against Harry’s face and suffocating him with the force with which he was pressing down onto Harry’s tongue.

Louis was riding some ethereal wave as he felt himself be pushed and rolled over on his back.  He’d never felt better in his life, he was sure of it.  He felt _beautiful_ and _loved_ and _high_ —and so, so, so, so happy.

But Harry wasn’t touching his body anymore, though.  Harry was too far away, was no longer attached to him for some reason.  Louis reached for Harry’s cock again while sitting up.

“Want you inside me, Daddy,” Louis whispered.  “Need your cock now…”

“Oh, you’re getting it, baby boy,” Harry promised, pushing Louis back down on the bed.  Harry loved Louis’ libido.  Fucking _loved_ it.  “Take off your pretty panties for me first.”

“But…”

Harry raised an eyebrow at Louis’ pout.

Louis looked shy.  “But I want you to fuck me with them on, Daddy.”

“Ah,” Harry said lightly.  “You’ve gone and made a mess in them, though, haven’t you, baby?”

“But, Daddy, you said I could…”

Harry was thrilled to hear Louis say the word so thoughtlessly now, like it fell off his tongue.

“I know, baby, but I want my boy to have nice and _clean_ knickers to wear when I fuck him.  What have we got to do about that, do you think?” Harry asked, rubbing his thumb along the tip of Louis’ cock and spreading the mess around more.

“I-I don’t think I know, Daddy.”

“I think you can figure it out if you try.”

Louis didn’t know what on earth he could be referring to, and his eyes were wild with trying to figure it out, trying to give Daddy an answer. “Put on new ones?” Louis asked hopefully.

Harry smiled but shook his head.  “We haven’t any other ones,” he answered.  Which was a complete, utter lie.  Harry had sneakily bought plenty of pretty knickers for Louis while he was out earlier in the day.

Louis whined as he felt Harry’s fingers slide under the sides of his panties and begin to pull them down, even tried to get Harry to stop, but Harry chastised, “None of that or it’s straight to the corner with you.”

Louis sulked but still whispered, “Yes, Daddy,” before he lifted his bum for Harry to take off his underwear.  Once the panties were removed, Harry took a good while wiping up any traces of cum off of Louis’ dick with the material before tightly balling it up in his hand and lifting it.

“Open up now, nice and wide.”

Louis realized at once how Harry meant for Louis to get his panties clean, and he opened his mouth without protest.

Harry stared more at Louis’ eyes than Louis’ mouth as he inched the fabric in between his two lips, fascinated more with how darkly blown Louis’ pupils were than with the fact that he was _gagging Louis with his own cum-stained panties_ , entranced at how _into_ this Louis was.

Once Louis’ mouth was stretched in a perfect “O” around his thong, Harry grasped the bottle of lube from the side drawer and made his cock wet.

“Daddy’s going to fuck you now, baby, but I don’t want you to come just yet.”  Harry gestured to Louis’ mouth and promised, “When you get those all clean again, we’ll put them back on, and then you can come in them again, ‘kay?”

Louis nodded and immediately went to licking and sucking the lace in his mouth as Harry propped himself on his knees, spread Louis’ legs widely, and slowly penetrated him inch by torturous inch.

Louis arched his back off the bed and moaned around the gag in his mouth once he felt Harry all the way inside, long and fucking thick as shit, and Harry began fucking into Louis steadily, running his hands along Louis’ soft and hairless inner thighs while his hips heaved forward.

Harry noticed Louis’ cock stiffening up again.  “Feel good?”

“Mmm, _mmmm_ …”

“ _Do not come_ ,” Harry reminded Louis.

“Mm,” Louis moaned, “hmmm.”

Harry bit the side of his bottom lip in his mouth.  “Fuck, your legs are so smooth, everything’s so _smooth_ , honey, you’re so, so pretty for me.”

Louis sucked and slurped his panties and drank down the gooey remains of his release the best he could as he tried to explain to Harry how stretched and perfect and full Harry’s cock was making him feel.  He rolled his hips up and garbled, “Ghh….Mhm dhdeh arhmm…”

Harry forcefully pushed down on the insides of Louis’ knees so that his legs were positively splayed open now, his arse _Harry’s_ to take, _Harry’s_ to fuck, _Harry’s_ to own always and for ever and ever.

Harry grunted and watched his cock smash into Louis, everything shiny with lube, everything about Louis so _beautiful._   Even while getting _fucked,_ Louis was just so beautiful.  Or _especially_ while getting fucked, Louis was just so beautiful.

“Baby,” Harry cried out desperately.  “ _Baby_ …”

His eyes drooped.  He was losing control.  One, two, _three_ more thrusts inside and—

“Daddy, stop!” Louis shouted, only it was low and muffled around the fabric in his mouth.  Harry immediately lifted his head, smirking when he realized that Louis had just been about to come, too.

Harry pulled out of Louis slowly, wincing at the burning, throbbing feeling of needing to desperately come, leaning down and wiping the sweat on his brow off onto Louis’ chest while heaving.  It took a few moments, but Harry finally looked back up at Louis and growled low in his chest.

Louis’ eyes had turned black now, and Harry pulled the panties out of his mouth roughly and examined them in front of Louis’ face.  They were completely wet now, but there were no more traces of cum there.  “Very good, baby.  Very good.”

Louis smiled.  “I did good?  I got it all?”

Harry nodded.  “Lift up your bum for Daddy.”

Louis’ head fell to the side of the pillow as he did as he was told, and he smiled with his lip sucked in his mouth as Harry slowly lifted the panties back up his legs.  Now all he had to do was be patient for Harry’s cock again, and then he’d get what he—

He was startled when Harry’s hand wrapped around his entire jaw and forcefully moved his face to look ahead.  “Do. Not. Bite. Your. Lip.”

Louis’ smile dropped immediately.  “Daddy, I’m _sorry_ ,” he whimpered.  “It just feels too good, and I forgot—”

“Hmm,” Harry pondered, situating Louis’ half-hardened cock into his panties again, “Daddy _could_ punish you, but—”

“No!”

Harry’s voice turned stern.  “ _Louis William_.”

Louis looked reluctant to say, “I mean…if that’s what you want, Daddy…”

“Daddy _could_ punish you,” Harry continued, “but he knows you didn’t do it to be bad.  You did it because you’re a little cockslut for Daddy, yeah?  Because you just can’t wait for Daddy’s cock to be inside your pretty little arse?”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Louis moaned, twisting his body at his Daddy’s words.

“Tell you what, baby,” Harry continued, sliding his sweat-sheened body up the bed, “you’re not going to be punished.  But you’re going to have to work for it if you want to come again.”  Harry was now on his back next to Louis, gently holding his own cock.  Louis looked at him in confusion.  “You’re going to ride Daddy’s cock,” Harry instructed, just barely lifting his hips.

Louis giggled once he understood.  “Oh, I’m so lucky, Daddy,” he whispered.  “I get to ride you _two_ times.”

“What are you waiting for then, little one?  I’m ready for you.”

“’Kay,” Louis said happily, wasting no time situating himself on Harry’s lap.

Louis reached behind him and moved the fabric covering his hole out of the way so he could sit down on Harry.  He stared directly into Harry’s eyes as he felt the tip of Harry’s cock move past his rim—“ _Tsss_ ”—and as he lowered himself more and felt Harry’s length deeper and deeper inside his arse, his eyes swelled.

And the instant Louis’ lip came into his mouth, he dropped it.

“ _Baby_ ,” Harry exclaimed happily, praising him.

Louis waited a moment before he started to truly move, and once he did start rhythmically lifting himself, Harry stared at his strong thighs, stared at his dick thickening in his panties, messily beginning to stick out of the top.

Louis closed his eyes and grinded down in circles, rocking back and forth and round and round on Harry’s cock, then lifted himself up and down and up and down, never satisfied with monotony, always chasing the most extreme feeling he could get.  Eventually, he stopped thinking about how he was moving and just _moved_ , finally giving all of himself over because he trusted Daddy, knew his Daddy would take care of him no matter what he did.

“’S that feel good, baby?”

“So, _ohh_ , so good,” Louis replied, moaning in the middle of his response, his mouth fallen.  “You—you fill me up so good, Daddy.”

 “Christ,” Harry groaned, “I can’t believe you’re real…”

“I’m—Daddy, I feel so good,” Louis said, now operating at such a low frequency that he was only able to feel pleasure.

“ _Yeah_ , sweetheart, know you do…look at you move, you like it so much, don’t you?”

“Mmmhmmm,” he replied, long and sweet.

Harry had remained still for quite long enough, and he began moving up into Louis as Louis slammed his body down onto him, fucking himself brutally on what Daddy had to give him, and Daddy was _hard_ for him, Daddy _wanted_ him, Daddy thought he was beautiful and pretty and _Daddy loved him_.

“Look at me, baby,” Harry said, wanting Louis to always associate _feeling good_ with _Harry_ , with _Daddy_.

Louis moaned, astonished, as Harry smashed his hips up and found Louis’ prostate, and fuck, Harry couldn’t help it any longer; he reached out and _ruined_ Louis’ panties by tearing them to the side, finally exposing his balls and springing out his cock.  _Yes_.

“Daddy,” Louis moaned, aroused by Harry’s show of strength.

“You’re so beautiful, Lou.  Such a beautiful, _naughty_ boy, and you’re mine.”

“Shit, _shit_ , fuck, fuck, fuck, Daddy,” Louis chanted, lifting his body and dropping it quickly over and over, looking down and watching his cock flap.  His hair was damp to the root, dripping on his forehead as it swayed with each forceful movement of his and his Daddy’s bodies, and every inch of his skin had become rosy pink from exertion, he was just sure Daddy could see how hard he was trying, was sure Daddy was going to reward him for working it so good…

“Your _mouth_ ,” Harry grunted, sharply slapping Louis’ arse.  It had no meaning behind it, however; though Harry could pretend Louis was being bad by having such a dirty mouth, he secretly loved it.  He _loved_ his dirty little boy, loved making him absolutely _raunchy_ with his pleas.

“Faster, Daddy, go faster,” Louis begged.  Louis shouted out as his Daddy gave him what he wanted, slamming his cock into Louis lightning quick until Louis stopped moving and collapsed on top of his chest.

Harry pushed Louis’s boneless form back up.  “Lean on my chest, baby,” Harry grunted.  “I need to look at you.”

Louis pressed on Harry’s chest with his palms to force his body up, but he was exhausted.  “Daddy, I’m not as strong as you,” he panted, “I’m sorry...”

“’S all right,” Harry groaned, “Daddy’s got you.  Yeah, just lean on me just like that, baby, gonna make you come, I’ve got you.”

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” Louis chanted, no longer able to say anything else.  Harry’s hand found Louis’ cock and he moved it raw along Louis’ shaft, up and down over and over.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” Harry reveled up to Louis.  “So, so, perfect, the _best_ boy, God, you make me feel _so good_ , sweetie, make me wanna fuck you forever…”

And the thing was, none of his words were for play.  Harry meant all of it.  It was genuine.  He just _loved_ Louis so much, always wanted to make him come, sure that a part of him would _always_ want to be inside Louis, take care of him forever, be his Daddy _forever_ if that’s what Louis wanted.

With the hand not currently pumping Louis’ cock, Harry stuck his index and middle fingers together into Louis’ mouth and steadily forced them in and out to match the pattern of his hips thrusting, and Louis closed his eyes and sucked on them gratefully.

In the next few seconds, Louis squeezed Harry’s chest roughly, fingers clawing into Harry’s pectorals hard enough to pull blood to the surface, and then Harry felt sharp, hard teeth bite around his digits as Louis’ legs flailed out and he spurt all over Harry’s fist and stomach with the most beautiful sounds Harry had ever heard.

Louis began whimpering not long after he’d come, his face twisting downwards and his arms collapsing on Harry’s chest.  Harry squeezed his eyes shut and focused on Louis’ meek noises as his throat rumbled and his cock came so much that he felt wetness all over himself—inside Louis, leaking out of Louis, everywhere.

Harry’s heart rabbited, and his chest heaved with the effort it took to breathe with Louis on top of him.  Louis looked confused; he didn’t know what to do with his body now, overwhelmed by how hard he’d just come—two intense orgasms almost back-to-back, _shit_ —and Harry wrapped up his sweaty body to bring him back down to earth.

“You’re all right,” Harry whispered.  “You’re all right.  Just hold onto me, baby.”

Louis dropped his head into the crook of Harry’s shoulder, feeling so emotional he could cry.

They remained like that, breathing together and clinging onto one another until their hearts stopped beating so frantically.

“Oh, my Goddd,” Louis groaned into Harry’s neck.

Harry’s chest shook with light laughter.  Yeah.  That about summed it up.

“That was so good,” Harry said, smoothing his hands up and down Louis’ back.  He felt his limp cock finally slip out of Louis, and a trail of semen seeped out.

Louis fidgeted atop Harry.  “I’m so sticky.”

“That was the messiest sex we’ve had in so long,” Harry agreed.  “So…I think it’s bath time,” he said slowly.

“ _No_ ,” Louis protested into Harry’s neck, “I don’t wanna move.”

“Be good and get your bath, baby,” Harry said quietly.  “I’ll even carry you there.”

“Okay.”

Louis grasped Harry in a koala-bear hold and hummed the entire way to the bath.  He was still high as he sank into the water with Harry.  “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Silly boy, why are you thanking me?”

“Take care of me,” Louis said sleepily, leaning further back onto Harry’s chest as Harry began to rub his shoulders.

“Aw,” Harry replied.  “It’s my pleasure, baby.  Literally.”

“I love you,” Louis said drowsily, only slightly recognizing Harry’s stupid joke and choosing not to laugh.  “So much.”

“I love you, too, baby.  _Sweet baby Lou_ ,” he crooned, kissing Louis’ temple while scooping up bubbles onto Louis’ chest.

And, just like everything they did, it should’ve been weird, but it wasn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so extremely worried about this chapter because it's the first time I've ever written anything pertaining to stuff like this, so..... ahh!
> 
> Next chapter I plan to have all the boys together again, and they all try out something new together. That's all I can really give away about that, and, as usual, tell me what you'd like to see and I can try to work it in. If you've already asked for something but haven't seen it, I'll tell you what my plan is and all that fun stuff if you remind me.
> 
> Oh, also let me know if you notice major embarrassing typos that I need to fix pronto because LEMME TELL YOU, this wasn't a walk in the park to edit.
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading this GIANT OF A CHAPTER--hope you liked it!
> 
>  
> 
> *Pushes chair away from desk and nervously awaits opinions*


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is more Ziam than I've ever centered on. The next chapter should balance back out.
> 
> Harry and Louis have a sweet little moment together. Zayn and Liam's sexual relationship progresses and Zayn wants to start using toys. Liam's getting more comfortable in his dominating position, and stuff happens. 
> 
> ALSO, there is a small Harry/Liam kiss. It's minuscule, but if you don't want any part of it, skip the cliched truth-or-dare scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heed the tags if this stuff is not your thing!
> 
> Tags That Apply: Frottage, Masturbation, Anal Sex, Fingering, Spanking, Double-Dildo, Cock Cage, Humiliation Kink

“Ooh, you've finally taken out your contacts,” Harry noticed cheerily, lifting the covers of his and Louis' large bed and snuggling in close to the smaller boy.  “ _Love_ you in glasses, babe.”

The corners of Louis’ mouth turned up a little, and he made a soft noise in reply before shifting his focus from the computer in his lap to his freshly-showered boyfriend.  Louis was barely propped up in bed at all, just a few fluffy pillows behind his head, so all he really had to do in order to see the naked, curly boy he called his own was slightly turn his head a bit.

“Mm, you smell good, darling,” Louis sighed as the damp and rich scent of Harry’s body wash wafted over and filled his nostrils.

Louis loved the fragrant shampoos and washes Harry used because they always just made him smell so _nice_ all the time, like walking sex.  Louis was loosely aware that he had instinctively begun smiling at the aroma, but it wasn’t even just the body wash that had him reacting that way.  In addition to all that stuff (those _scrubs_ and _gels_ and shampoos _made specially for curly hair_ ), always— _always_ —was an underlying scent so undeniably _Harry_ that Louis couldn’t help but upturn his lips whenever he was near it.

Harry pretended to pout as he pinched Louis’ cheeks.  “You should’ve joined me.  I had to shower all by myself.  I’m quite hurt.”

“Well,” Louis replied, turning his face out of Harry’s hands to nod to his laptop, “ _somebody’s_ got to replace my knickers.   Seems they’ve been ruined at the hands of one Harry Styles.”

Harry just looked pleased with himself.  Resting his head on Louis’ shoulder, he turned his attention to the computer where Louis had a site up displaying dozens of women’s panties.  “Those are nice,” he commented, pointing to a pair of simple, black ones.

Louis’ face brightened.  “Ooh, I was just looking at those.  You like them?”

“Definitely,” Harry affirmed against Louis’ skin.  “Get them.”

“On it,” Louis murmured.  His index finger went to work on the mouse pad, browsing and clicking on not _just_ the black ones but multiple other pairs, too, adding them to his shopping cart, even enlarging the photos to examine the underwear more closely from time to time.

“Seems like all your embarrassment’s finally left,” Harry acknowledged, finding Louis’ silent enthusiasm endearing and also incredibly, incredibly arousing.

Louis didn’t comment, just continued to click on more pages, trance-like.  Harry counted a total of ten items he’d selected so far.

“Hey,” Harry finally said, closing the laptop and placing it on the floor.  He ignored Louis’ confused look as he rolled atop him and nudged Louis’ legs open with his knees before settling in between them.  “I’m proud of you, you know.”

Louis looked to the side before sheepishly returning his eyes to Harry.  He just shrugged.  “Thanks…”

Harry propped himself up with his hands on either side of Louis’ face and examined him— _really_ examined him.  His soft, soft Louis, with glasses on his face that he never let anybody but Harry see him wearing anymore, the eyes behind the frames just as radiant as his tan skin…And then his _lips_ , his little, little lips so _perfectly_ pink and smooth, smooth just like his face, so, _so_ smooth, and everything about him was just heavenly.  Even his _scent_ , _God_ , he always just smelled so _good_ to Harry—like home, like familiarity—and Harry swore he’d always be able to identify Louis even from miles away just by how sweet he smelled.  Harry was in perpetual awe that he was able to call Louis _his_.

Harry tried to put all of that into a statement, but it was impossible.  “I mean it.  I’m so happy,” he settled with, beaming down to Louis.  “You’re just the most adorable person in the entire world.”

Louis smiled, as well.

Not too long ago, Louis would’ve fought off the compliment with a roll of his eyes and a scoff.  He would’ve pretended that he didn’t like Harry calling him that, saying that he preferred _hot_ or _manly_ to _pretty_ or _adorable_.  Moments like this reminded both himself _and_ Harry exactly how far he’d come with his self-consciousness.  Just recently, he’d actually admitted that not only did he _like_ to be called pretty, but that he _wanted_ Harry to call him pretty.  And that was just an incredible leap for him to have disclosed that.  A true testament to how much he trusted Harry.

So, yeah.  Louis was happy.  He may have blushed a little.  “The entire _world_ , Haz?”

Harry vigorously nodded his head.  “I mean, _look_ at you,” he continued incredulously, peeking down at his and Louis’ touching torsos.  Louis wore plaid boxers and a soft shirt and Harry was completely nude, but it didn’t matter; they still fit.  “You’re like…a matching puzzle piece for me or something.  Just perfect.”

Louis was too awestruck to give a reply immediately, but it didn’t matter, anyway.  In the next instant, his mouth was softly mushed incapable of speech, kisses being sweetly and suddenly stolen by his boyfriend.

“Mm,” he mumbled against Harry’s mouth, surprised hands fumbling to find a placement somewhere on Harry’s back. “Mmphh!”

“Mhmm,” Harry mumbled back, hands moving now to cradle Louis’ head.  He took a moment to remove Louis’ glasses before closing his eyes again and kissing Louis like Louis deserved to be kissed _always_ , with passion and care and _want_ , and, above all, a love so indisputably profound that Harry felt as if the entire world stood still in the face of it.  This was right.  He and Louis—they were _right_.

The onslaught slightly stunned Louis, but it only took seconds before he responded earnestly, hooking his legs around Harry’s calves and sliding his wet lips against Harry’s to show him that he wanted this, too, that there’d _never_ be a time where he would reject Harry’s kisses, reject Harry's weight on top of him.

They snogged for quite a long time, never pausing and hardly ever breaking for air, and though it was gentle, it was feverous, like the slowness of it all only served to build up a deep hunger within the two lads.  Harry was already hard and could feel that Louis was, too, but he didn’t rush anything, just focused on the almost-inaudible noises Louis kept making into his mouth… and the pounding of Louis’ deeply-beating heart underneath his chest…and the way Louis’ little fingers squeezed into the muscles of Harry’s back and neck like he was silently pleading for something more.  Everything flooded Harry’s senses until finally capitulating, and with a great gasp of air, Harry broke his lips apart from Louis’.

“You’ve been quite good lately, haven’t you,” Harry said gravelly, leaning down to drag his nose along the side of Louis’ neck.  Harry breathed Louis in and took quite a while just pressing more kisses against his skin, and his cock filled more and _throbbed_ now from how Louis tilted his head to the side to give him more access.

Louis was quiet, lost in arousal that _just kissing_ had put him in, a hand now traveling to Harry’s arse to squeeze.  Harry pushed his hips forward, and Louis couldn’t believe that both of them were so fucking horny already. 

Harry was right.  Their bodies did fit like puzzle pieces, reacted to each other with only the lightest of touches.

“Mmm.  Yeah, I’m always good for you,” Louis whispered.

“Always good for me,” Harry repeated.  “Think you deserve a treat.”  Harry stuck out his tongue to lick a stripe along Louis’ jugular.  “You wanna come tonight?”

Louis simply squirmed underneath Harry, thinking _of-fucking-course I want to come_ , but he was too astounded by how unyielding and ridiculously solid Harry’s cock already felt where it was poking his inner thigh to actually voice anything.  When he didn’t respond right away, Harry latched onto his neck with sharp teeth and sucked hard.

“ _Unnh_ ,” Louis sounded, his quiet noises unabashedly high-pitched already.  That was one of his favorite spots for Harry to bite, and _fuck_ , Louis knew it was going to leave a mark, but he didn’t care— _let the world see_ —and he inadvertently bucked his hips up while burrowing his nails into Harry’s back.

“Tell me you want it,” Harry breathed against Louis’ ear.  “Tell me you want me to make you come.”

Louis’ mouth was already agape, and he whispered, “Want you…want you to make me come.”  And when Harry continued sucking on Louis’ neck, his little fucking smirk obvious against Louis’ skin, Louis continued, “ _Shit_ , Harry.”

Harry pressed his hips forward.  “How bad?”

Louis just moaned.

“How bad do you want it, Louis?”

“Unh,” Louis moaned again, for Harry had found a new spot to bite, “ _bad_ , so bad.”

Harry kept his mouth latched onto Louis’ neck while his fingers trailed down and into the elastic of Louis’ boxers.  Harry slid the underwear down quickly, and while Louis kicked his way out of them, looking down and seeing his cock lying flat against his tummy, Harry blindly reached for the lube beside the bed.  Louis re-wrapped his legs around Harry’s waist tightly, clutching onto him with the sudden and deep need to be taken, but Harry surprised him when, instead of lubing up his fingers to open him up like normal, Harry sloppily poured the slick substance over both his cock and Louis’ cock simultaneously.

Harry removed his lips from Louis’ neck after a sharp nip with his teeth, and Louis watched open-mouthed as Harry propped himself up with just one arm, matched up his length with Louis’, and wrapped his free hand almost entirely around both slick shafts.

Louis began panting.  Just the knowledge that Harry’s hand was big enough to do that, to almost fit around _both_ of their cocks… _fuck_.  Louis pulled his shirt up to reveal his chest and then went back to squeezing on Harry’s sides as Harry began to slowly move his hand up and down, jerking them both off together.  Harry’s hips soon began to indiscriminately move with the pace of his hand, making sure not to move to roughly and hurt Louis, and he lowered his mouth to the other side of Louis’ neck to suck and leave bite-marks there, too.

“ _Harry_ …”

Harry’s breath was hot against Louis’ ear.  “Like this, baby?”

“Mmm,” Louis sighed, moving his hips up blindly against Harry, “yeah.”

Harry bit on the collar of Louis’ shirt.  “Take this off,” he ordered.

Louis squirmed to obey, and once he pulled his shirt over his head, Harry latched back onto his neck.

Both of their dicks were wet—wet and very, very slick—and the tip of Harry’s cock massaged the tip of Louis’ as Harry moved his pelvis back and then forward again, thrusting on top of Louis inside the tunnel of his hand.  He moved his hips quicker and quicker as he felt whines emanate from Louis’ throat he was currently sucking, and God, even though Louis wasn’t being particularly loud, there was nothing better on _earth_ than listening to Louis make noise for him.

Louis slid his hands up to Harry’s shoulders, scratching and deeply digging his nails into the deep muscles there.  His neck felt sore, so he turned his face to Harry’s in an invitation to snog, and Harry’s mouth moved immediately upon witnessing the look of desire on Louis’ face, that look only _he_ could put there.

Harry’s arm was a bit tired, and his left hand might’ve been burning in pain by Louis’ face, but he didn’t let it affect the urge with which he kissed and moved against Louis nor the fervidity of his right hand stroking both of their cocks.  Harry’s hands always knew exactly how to handle Louis, knew the exact pressure to squeeze and all of the little twists and rotations that were sure to pull his orgasm right out of his body, and where the hell did this desperation _come_ from, Louis thought.  He threw his head back in pleasure.

Harry had become completely engrossed with Louis’ bare neck, nearly fanatical in his deep, dark stare.  Now that Louis had his head tilted back, his Adam’s apple poked out and jumped with his moans, and Harry could see that almost every bit of skin around it was scattered and splotched with red marks—some light and some brilliantly dark, almost purple already.  Nobody else _ever_ got to do that, to mark Louis so thoroughly like that, to claim him in such a visible place.  Nobody but Harry.

He grinded even harder against Louis, fighting the urge to bite down and really bruise Louis’ neck and settling with just letting his head fall there to rest.

In response, Harry felt Louis' smooth legs squeeze tighter around him, and something in Harry seemed to snap at that.  Knowing Louis' legs were so smooth and pretty just for _him_ , knowing his neck was marked by _him_ —

“Mine,” Harry growled, digging his knees in the sheets and frenziedly thrusting, “ _mine_ , always—tell me, God, tell me—”

“ _Yours, yours, fuck_ ,” Louis groaned, lowering his head and uselessly tapping on Harry’s back in warning, “gonna come— _Harry_ —” A sharp bite to Louis’ bottom lip and a rough squeeze to his dick had Louis adding, “ _Daddy_ , _can I—‘s it okay?—”_

“Yeah, baby, gonna—“

And that was all Harry got out, because in the next second, he and Louis both turned into stomach-clenching, heavy-panting, deep-moaning messes.  Louis clawed up and down Harry’s back deeply enough to leave long, red swellings until finally clamping his fingers down onto Harry's arms and whining, gripping onto Harry as if it could possibly bring them closer while both of their bodies contracted wildly.

“Louis, Louis, _baby_ ,” Harry groaned, still twisting his hand around the tips of their cocks, getting closer and closer and closer, and then he and Louis were coming—coming _together—_ in a single flashing, throbbing moment of bliss at which both Harry’s _and_ Louis’ mouths dropped, like it was shocking that they made each other feel like this _every single time_ , like it was new for their bodies to react to one another so explosively, like it was their first time all over again.

“ _Fuck_ —”

“ _Ahh_ , _oh_ , oh, my God—“

They extended the sensation by delicately rocking their spent cocks together until Louis finally released his fingers from Harry’s skin, and Harry immediately loosened the grip of his hand and collapsed atop Louis, carelessly sliding their torsos together.

Though heavy-lidded, their eyes remained open as they looked into each other—not _at_ each other, _into_ each other—until Harry couldn’t control his sudden shakiness and reached around to hug Louis tightly, unconcerned with his messy hand and choosing to not even comment on the lovely fact that Louis had called him _Daddy_ unprovoked.  Harry rested his forehead on Louis’, being still as he tried to quiet his racing heart. 

That was the moment for long minutes.

Louis finally smiled before perking his lips up for one last chaste kiss, and Harry happily gave him what he wanted.

“ _God_ , I just want to make you come for the rest of your life,” Harry admitted as he reluctantly removed his lips.  Any way he could make Louis come, he wanted it.  He wanted to see Louis fall apart like that always, with those shocked little eyes and pretty little sounds and _fuck_ , just all of it.

“Well, that would be quite inconvenient,” Louis replied with a tight little stretch, seemingly full of energy again even though it was almost the time he normally fell asleep.  “Just coming my whole life long, up until I’m old and grey, just nonstop, like, ‘Oh, _dreadfully_ sorry, can’t make it for tea today, actually not ever—too busy _orgasming_ _my life away_ —’

Harry tried to chastise, but his deep laughter made it futile.  “Stop ruining the moment.  I just meant that I want to see you like that more often than not.  All shuddery and soft and breathing out my name.”  Harry sighed happily and smiled.   “It’s lovely.”  He brushed his nose softly against the tip of Louis’.  “You’re beautiful when you come.”

Louis lightly dug his finger into Harry’s dimple, finding it impossible not to match his smile.  “You’re beautiful always.”

“I love you,” Harry said before leaning in for one last kiss.

“Love you, too,” Louis replied, “but could you please get _off_ , I’m suffocating, and there’s filth all over my stomach.”

Harry rolled his eyes dramatically but carefully rolled to the side, immediately throwing an arm across Louis’s chest.  Feeling the slimy traces of his and Louis’ combined releases there, Harry sat up and smiled.  “ _Hah, hah_ , looks like you’ve got to shower with me after all…We’re all dirty again.”

“ _Or_ you could just get a washrag, but _fine_ ,” Louis mumbled with a half-hearted eye roll before sitting up swinging his legs over the bed.  “Could you just imagine the _trousers_ you would go through if you came for the rest of your life, though?” he pondered aloud as he followed Harry to the shower.

“Arrggh, just forget I even said anything," Harry muttered.

Harry wasn’t fooling Louis.  His shoulders were shaking with laughter.  He thought Louis was _funny_.  Louis continued, “Like, imagine the washing you’d have to do…”

“ _Okay_ , okay, I get it.”

Harry went ahead of Louis to turn on the taps, and Louis paused in front of the mirror while he waited.  Louis’ smile dropped as he gasped.  “ _Harry_ , my _neck_ …”

Harry turned his head over his shoulder and smiled guiltily.  “Er…Looks lovely, yeah?”

“It looks like an animal’s mauled me,” Louis corrected as he touched the marks, though he truthfully wasn’t _too_ bothered by them.  What could he say?  He liked it when Harry ravished him.

“It looks lovely.”

Louis stepped into the shower with Harry and threw Harry's loofah at his chest.  “Do you even know how long it'll take to hide all this, you animal?  I look ridiculous."

“ _Lovely_.”

 

* * *

 

It was a Friday late the next week, and Louis had been invited to Zayn’s.  Or, if you asked Louis, more like _had awkwardly been pushed out of the house by Harry to visit with Zayn_.

“Just wait until I’m around to do the fun stuff with him,” Harry had winked at Louis.

Louis turned around in the doorway. “And if I don’t?”

Harry frowned.  “Don’t joke about that.”

Louis had just stuck out his tongue.  _Harry_ was the one kicking him out of the house.  He could joke if he wanted to.

There was no apparent reason for even going to Zayn’s (he didn’t even have any weed on him), and now, here Louis was, sat in the garden beside a noiseless Zayn, listening to the fucking birds chirp while eating crisps.

“ _So_ …” Zayn said awkwardly.

“So,” Louis repeated.

“Nice turtleneck,” Zayn teased.

Louis rolled his eyes.  “My neck is cold.”

“It’s September.”

“It’s _brisk_ ,” Louis corrected.  It _was_ quite chilly for September, actually, but Louis still had residual love-bites on his neck that were finally fading, so he’d been reduced to turtlenecks all week.  Louis _knew_ Zayn knew that, too.  “ _Oh_ , and there’s that contagious rash on my neck I don’t want you to catch, so.”

Zayn just smirked, and then he was silent again.

Louis turned his body to face Zayn on the bench they were sharing.  “What's going on, man?  Why are you being so weird?”

Zayn rolled his eyes at Louis’ bluntness.  “Not being weird.  I just have a—question for you.”

“Okay, then ask.”

“It’s—I don’t know how…”  Zayn sighed.  “It’s just odd to ask, I guess."

Louis narrowed his eyes in suspicion.  “Sex stuff, then?”

Zayn nodded, fiddling with his pocket to pull out his cigarettes.

“You’re mad to think anything’s odd at this point, mate,” Louis said, sticking an empty palm out to Zayn.  The next moment, his hand had a cigarette in it.

Zayn was silent as he sparked up, and after flicking his lighter in front of Louis’ face, Louis leaned forward to ignite the end of his cigarette, too, making eye contact with Zayn as he suctioned his mouth.

“I was just curious, like…” Zayn finally said after more silent minutes passed, “…You and Harry do a lot of stuff with toys and all, right?”

Louis made a noise of affirmation, staring up into a tree where he’d been watching a particular bird for seemingly ages.

“Have you ever used a double-dildo?  Or do you—like, would you ever be interested in that, do you think?”

Louis’ head turned back to Zayn, a slight grimace on his surprised face.  He shook his head.  “Er, no…don’t think so… _Ouch_.”

“Ouch?” Zayn asked with a hint of grief.  “Why ‘ouch’?”

“Well, I mean, that’d be a bit… _much_ , even for me,” Louis chuckled.  “Don’t you think?”

Zayn’s face fell.  “Oh.  Well, I just thought that since—” Zayn shook his head, accepting Louis’ rejection of what he had truthfully allowed himself to become quite excited over.  He flicked his cigarette into the grass.  “If that’s what you think, if that’s too much, that’s…”  Zayn trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.  “Just was curious.”

Louis laughed incredulously after he took a drag of his cigarette.  “ _Bloody hell_ , Zayn, what do you mean, _‘if that’s what I think’_?  Double penetration would hurt _anybody_.  At least the first time.  Are you wanting to try that with Liam or something?  Cause you’ve gotta be careful, mate.  And I mean, if you just want someone to do it with you, like beside you or something, I guess I’d be willing to try it with Harry, as well, if—”

Zayn looked at Louis in utter confusion before shaking his head.  “Oh!  No!  No, that’s not what I—Were you thinking it was like two going inside you at once?”

“Yeah…” Louis said slowly.  “Is that not what you meant?”

“No,” Zayn started, scratching his neck.  “I’m doing a shit job of explaining, aren’t I…  Sorry.  Imeant like a regular dildo.  Like ones you say you already use?  Except it’s just longer.”  Zayn paused to let that phrase sink in with Louis before he said, “So you can share it with someone…have it be in you and the other person at the same time…so you’d both have to move on it together, like?”

Louis gasped.  “ _Liam wants it up the arse_?”

Zayn’s expression turned comically blank.  “Holy _shit_ , Lou, you’re being proper _thick_ , mate.”  He heaved a sigh.  “Why would I be sat here having this conversation with _you_ if it was about Liam?”

“I don’t…”  Louis’ eyes grew wide as he finally realized what Zayn had been alluding to.  They only grew wider still at the mental image he suddenly conjured up of him and Zayn fucking themselves on a dildo.  The _same_ dildo.  _“Oh!”_

“Yeah…Does that change things?” Zayn asked, looking to the ground.  Any embarrassment he felt, however, went undetected by Louis because of Zayn’s permanent visage of _cool_.

“Er…yes,” replied Louis somewhat shyly.

Zayn’s head popped up.  “Would you—you’d really—with me?”

Louis nodded his head, smiling at how excited Zayn appeared.  “I mean…I’ll just have to run it by Harry.”

“Oh, he already knows.”

Louis’ eyebrows shot up, and he dropped the end of his cigarette.  “What’d’you mean, he already knows?”

“Well…Liam and I asked him first…he was the first one we saw after we got the idea…And, anyway, he told me I should just ask you myself.”

“Oh,” Louis shrugged, a little puzzled.  “Did he seem like _he_ wanted it, though?”

“I dunno,” Zayn replied.  “I think so.”

Louis stared straight ahead as his mind raced.  _Wow_.  A double-dildo.  Wow.  He needed to get back home.  Talk with Harry.  Get his thoughts together.  Talk with Harry.

“Okay, so…as fun as this has been— _NOT_ —” Louis said, cackling when Zayn smacked his arm, “I’m gonna go.  Talk with Harry about…yeah.  And, er…I’m hungry, and he’s cooking, so…right.”

Zayn tried to make the whole situation a little less awkward by making an affronted face.  “Are you trying to say you don’t fancy my Pringles?”

“Oh, of _course_ I fancy your Pringles, Zayn,” Louis replied as he stood up and stretched.  “I just fancy Harry’s a bit more.”

 

* * *

 

Louis walked inside and carelessly kicked off his shoes, following a most delicious smell originating from the kitchen.  Harry was by the stove, chopping up vegetables, and he didn’t turn around when he greeted Louis like he normally would because now it was Serious Dinner Time.  Harry always got the most intense look on his face when he was cooking, and it constantly made Louis fond because Harry never realized it.

“Calm down, _calm down_ , no need for hysterics,” Louis said as he lifted himself up to sit on the counter beside Harry, “ _it’s just me_.”

Harry lifted his gaze from the worktop to quickly kiss Louis hello, his lips turned upwards a bit.  “How was it?”

Louis shrugged.  “Fine.”

“Just fine?”

“ _Well_ ,” Louis said slowly, playing with the side of Harry’s apron strings, “seems like you’ve known more about my little _visit_ than you’ve had me believe, so.”

Harry froze as he tried to quickly assess Louis.  “You’re not…cross with me, are you?”

Louis shook his head and smiled impishly.  “No, just playing.”  He reached out to grab some of the food that Harry was preparing and popped it into his mouth before Harry could protest.  “But I don’t get it, Haz.”

“Don’t get what?”

Louis talked with his mouth full.  “Why usher me off to Zayn’s when you could’ve just had the conversation with me yourself?  I could’ve been here with you the whole time, wouldn’t’ve even had to’ve left.”

“ _Aww, muffin!_   You didn’t want to _leave me_?  How _sweet_.”  Harry booped Louis on the nose.

Louis made a funny face.  “But why?” he persisted.

Harry turned serious again and shrugged.  “I just wanted him to be the one to ask you, that’s all.  And I’ve been cooking this whole time, anyway.  Wouldn’t’ve been much fun for you.”

“ _Please_.  You couldn’t have just said, ‘ _Hey, spoke with Z and Liam today, and guess what?  Zayn wants to share a_ dildo _with you! What great fun!  And blah, blah, blah…_?’”

Harry went back to cutting his veggies as his smirked.  “Well, no.  I don’t talk like that.  _Besides_ ,” he cut off Louis’ retort by speaking over it, “the whole point was to have the idea _not_ come from me, even if I was just telling you about it.  I didn’t— _don’t_ —want you to think you have to agree to something just because I’m the one asking you about it.”

“But you wouldn’t have even been—”

“Just hush,” Harry chuckled.  “Stop fighting it.”  After stirring a few things and smacking Louis’ hand away when he kept trying to eat samples—“ _You’ll burn yourself, Lou, stop_ ”—he finally asked, “So what did you end up deciding?”

“I…want to know what you think about it before I tell you.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at Louis’ boldness but answered sincerely, “I’m up for anything that makes you happy.  You know that.”

“But isn’t this different?  Like, our arses are going to touch.  Our _balls_ are going to touch.”

Harry laughed.  “And?  He’s sucked your dick before.  You two have swapped semen in your _mouths_ before.  I’ve come to terms with it.  Fancy watching it, even.”

Louis made a faux grossed-out face.  “Uh, way to ruin my appetite.” 

Harry smacked his lips.  “Louis, shut up.”

Louis chortled.  “But really.”

“But really,” Harry repeated.  “The limits were no bum stuff, and I don’t really count sharing a toy as ‘bum stuff.’  No one’s actually touching anybody there, you know?  And I’ll be right there with you, anyway, and Liam’ll be there with Zayn.  I haven’t got a problem with it.  You still haven’t answered my question, though.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Louis said exasperatedly.  “I ended up deciding _yes_.  As you knew I probably would.”

Harry smugly smiled.  He turned off the stove, removed his apron, and shifted a bit to walk in between Louis’ dangling legs.  “As I knew you probably would.”

Louis tucked Harry’s slightly sweaty curls behind his ears.  For some reason, he always liked it when Harry looked arrogant.  It challenged him.  “And how exactly did you predict that, darling?”

“I know you,” Harry said, placing his hands on the counter on either side of Louis’ thighs and leaning in closer.  “See, you’re dirty.  You think I don’t know exactly how dirty you are, but I do.  And I love it.  You’d love to get yourself off with Zayn.  Just using a toy.  Wishing it were me.  Desperate  for the real thing.”

Louis fidgeted on the worktop, staring at Harry’s dark eyes, at his face as it inched ever nearer.  Harry suddenly backed away, though, and looking at the stove, he clapped his hands and proclaimed, “Dinner time!”

 

* * *

 

“Leave it to you to be cheery while stuck in a hospital, Ni,” Louis said, tying balloons to the handles on the side of his bed.

“On your _birthday_ , of all days,” Zayn said sympathetically.

“It’s all good,” Niall said, waving a very carefree hand in front of his face.

Only a few days after Louis’ visit with Zayn, Niall’s knee had begun giving him trouble again, so, unfortunately, he had to go in for another surgery.  The Horans were already in the hospital room with Niall when the other lads had arrived, and Niall grinned widely when Liam, Zayn, and Louis all loudly stumbled into the room at the same time, carrying in balloons and presents by the trolley-full.

“Is that allowed?” Liam asked, motioning to what Louis was doing with the balloons.

“Why wouldn’t it be,” Louis muttered, finding a birthday hat and placing it on Niall’s head.

Harry walked in just then, boots clicking across the floor and presents stacked high in his arms, all the way up to his face, a tray of cupcakes at the very top.

“Could somebody—“

Louis immediately shuffled over to his boyfriend and relieved him of the top-half of the presents.  He smirked when he saw that Harry had decorated all of the cupcakes with orange, green, and white frosting, and Niall’s family laughed in amusement.

“They saw me bring all this inside,” Harry told Niall breathlessly, “and they took away the candles and the lighter I brought, but we can still sing to you—“

Niall’s voice was drowsy.  “Oh, it’s all right.  _No_ problem…”

“You’re so high,” Zayn commented quietly, chuckling.

Niall just looked up to Zayn with squinted eyes as he grinned.

Everyone visited for a while longer, sang “Happy Birthday,” and made friendly conversation with Niall’s family since Niall was a little too out-of-it to be coherent.  Once the sun set and Niall appeared to be falling asleep, they all said their goodbyes and proceeded to get lost on their way out the hospital.

Everyone rode back to Harry’s in silence.  No one wanted to say anything because they were still feeling half-guilty about poor Niall, but they were all secretly hoping that tonight would be the night for Zayn and Louis to use the dildo together.

Liam and Zayn had already bought the toy, and, because it was inevitable they’d be using it at Harry and Louis’ house, had just put it in a random closet.  Louis hadn’t even seen what it looked like, but he was excited just knowing it was there, waiting for him and Zayn to use it.  As Harry pulled up the drive of his house, the entire vehicle buzzed with unspoken sexual tension, and everyone immediately scurried to the kitchen to pour drinks, probably to loosen up their nerves a bit.

Louis and Zayn grinned at each other as they hit their beer bottles together with a clink.  They couldn’t stop smiling.

Liam put a hand on the back of Zayn's neck and walked with him into the lounge. "You're positively giddy," he noted.

Zayn looked to the floor and bit back a smile.  He _was_ giddy.  

He and Liam had been making a lot of progress lately.  So far, they hadn’t really tried out much besides open-handed spanking, but they were getting there.  They had finally finished that bloody book from Harry, compiled a list of things they’d like to try out from it, and even had _bought_ some little things here and there, like the dildo they were about to use.  Liam had even made a small list of rules for Zayn. 

Yeah, they were getting there.  And Zayn was liking everything very, very much.

All the boys decided to sit on the floor of the lounge instead of on furniture, and they played card game after card game while they sipped their beers.  _That_ had eventually turned into drinking game after drinking game, and then, once everyone had caught a nice buzz, _that_ had turned into Truth or Dare (at Louis’ request).  Because, why not?

“I dare you to…” Louis wracked his drunken brain to find a dare for Liam that would be mad enough to keep himself entertained.  “…I dare _you_ to run to the toilet, lick the back of it, and run back here in _ten seconds_.”

Liam made a noise of disgust.  “Ugh, that’s revolting, Louis.”

“I keep it very clean,” Harry added, sipping his drink and watching the scene play out.

“Fine,” Liam said.  He stood up from their little circle on the floor and asked, “When does the time start?”

Louis squealed.  Looking at his watch, he was about to say, “Now!” when Zayn interrupted him.

“ _Wait_ ,” Zayn said, “ _wait_ , Lou, how do we know he’s not lyin’?”

“Ooh, right, go in there and watch him,” Louis said.  Zayn took off down the hall, and Louis smirked as he looked at his watch again.  “Three…two…one…go!”

Liam slipped on the floor as he started running, causing Harry and Louis to burst out in laughter, and it was _so_ more than ten seconds by the time he got back.

 _“Fail!”_ Louis yelled, pointing at Liam once he and Zayn rejoined the circle.  “ _You fail, you fail_ …”

“Zayn was fucking _sat_ on the toilet,” Liam complained light-heartedly.  “It was right impossible for me to even _see_ the back of it let alone—“

“No one cares,” Louis jeered.  “You lose.  Drink up!”

Liam stuck his middle finger up to Louis, who just looked on delighted as Liam finished his drink.  Liam wiped his mouth and looked around blankly.  “Whose go?”

“Mine,” Zayn answered his boyfriend.  “Harry!  _I dare you_ ,” he said with steepled hands, “to…kiss Liam.”

Liam’s eyebrows rose to his hairline in surprise.  “Me?”

Zayn nodded his head vigorously, and Liam just looked at him in confusion.

“You’re serious?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, I’m serious,” Zayn said.  “Is this where you finally lose, Mighty Harry?”

“No,” Harry answered resolutely.  “I could do it—”

“I _have_ just licked a toilet, mate,” Liam added.

“There’s not a germ on there—I’m sure of it,” Harry interrupted, but making eye-contact with his boyfriend, added, “I’ve just gotta talk to Lou about it first, haven’t I?”

Zayn made a sound like a cracking whip, and Harry rolled his eyes.  Louis just smirked.

“What’s the matter, Haz?” Louis teased.  “Me and Zayn can kiss for you two, but you two can’t kiss for us?”

Harry was shocked that _Louis_ would be saying that, but then his lips turned up.  “Oh, _I_ see,” he teased, “this is all for your perverted pleasure.”

“Why can’t I watch my boyfriend kissing my mate’s boyfriend without it being perverted?”

Harry playfully narrowed his eyes at Louis and then turned to assess Liam.  Liam remained cross-legged on the floor while he waited for Harry to make up his mind.

Harry still looked tentative.  “You’re certain that’s okay with you, then?”

Louis nodded before rolling his eyes.  Maybe if he weren’t drunk, it would be different.  But still—“ _It’s Liam_ ,” he whispered, fighting off the huge urge to laugh.

“And…Liam?  It’s okay with you?” Harry clarified.

“I don’t care,” he simply said, looking at his nails.  “Anything’s fine by me.”

“We’ve created a monster,” Zayn muttered.  He missed the ominous look Liam gave him.

Harry just nodded.  “Okay, then.”

So Harry, with his hands on the floor, hesitantly leaned his face closer to Liam’s by mere inches at a time, finally pecked Liam on the lips, and backed away again.  He innocently looked to Zayn and Louis once he was finished.

“Boooooo,” Zayn mocked. “That wasn’t even a kiss.”

Louis rolled backwards, clutching his sides in hysteria.  “You looked like a scared _deer_ , Haz, oh, my God.”

Harry frowned at the boys taking the piss.  “ _Fine_ ,” he said resolutely, leaning forward more into Liam’s space.  He put both of his hands on Liam’s face and kissed him again—firmly—and he and Liam both smirked the entire time.  Their lips broke off with a smacking noise, and Harry smiled boyishly at Louis after wiping off his mouth.

“There,” Harry said.  “That was a good _seven seconds_.  Tell me again I don’t know how to kiss.”

Louis grinned.  “Never said you didn’t know how to kiss.”

“Yeah, right _suave_ kisser Harry is,” Liam said sarcastically, ruffling Harry’s curls.  “He _times_ it and everything.”

Harry good-humoredly pushed Liam’s hand out of his hair.  “Oh, what the fuck, Liam.  I _am_ a suave kisser.  Just not to you.”

“I can bear witness to that,” Louis said, still laughing.

“Niall misses all the crazy shit,” Liam muttered.

“Come here, boo,” Harry told Louis immediately, pulling at the hem of his boyfriend’s jumper.  Well, his _own_ jumper.  Louis smiled and leaned into Harry, allowing Harry’s tongue to gently trace his lips before delving inside.

“Had to save the best for my baby,” Harry said, grinning drunkly.

Louis laughed into Harry’s mouth.  “I can’t believe you kissed _Liam_.”

Harry shrugged.  “It was my manhood being challenged, so.”

“Everyone in this room has _seen_ your manhood, babe.  No one’s challenging it.”

Harry backed away a bit. “You seemed to be quite keen on us kissing…”

“You get to see me in action,” Louis shrugged.  “I wanted to see _you_ in action.  I never get to see you from any other angles, you know.”

Harry’s lips twitched at that, even though that was _so_ far from what he looked like when he was kissing Louis that it wasn’t even funny.  “’S that right?”

“Yep.”

“And did I meet your standards?”

“No,” Louis laughed, “not at all.”

Harry laughed along with Louis, but his smile eventually dropped.  “You really want to see that?  Me kissing Liam like I kiss you?”

Louis’ words ran together as he spoke, “Not if you’re gonna be that dreadful.”

“Seriously,” Harry pressed.

“No,” Louis whispered, wilting under Harry’s look.  “It was just for a bit of a laugh.”

“You’re certain?”

“Yes,” Louis said more confidently while batting his eyelashes.  “I only want your kisses to be for me.”

Harry reached out to trace Louis’ bottom lip with his thumb.  “I like to hear that.”  Louis moved his mouth around bite Harry’s finger, and Harry laughed.  “I’m surprised you’re not jealous.  I’d be a little jealous.  Why aren’t you jealous?”

“’Cause I know _I’m_ yours.”  Louis giggled at the way Harry beamed at that. “And ‘cause it’s Liam.”

“Hey,” Liam said, lying on the floor now with Zayn sprawled out beside him.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Zayn pulled Liam back down to resume kissing him.  They were having some moment of their own.

“That you and Harry are obviously too interested in _our_ sexy bodies than you are with each other,” Louis cheekily replied.

“And that’s the way it should be,” Harry added, laying Louis down to cover his body with his own, similar to Liam and Zayn’s position.  He kissed Louis properly then, reveling in the way Louis automatically wrapped his limbs around Harry like he was trying to trap him in.  “My kisses are always for you,” he whispered, his lips smacking audibly against Louis’.  “Never gonna ever kiss anyone else but you.”

Harry moved his way to Louis’ side, began pressing light kisses to his cheek, over to his ear, and down to his neck, slow slow slow, just the way that got Louis revved up the best.  When Harry noticed that Louis wasn’t being very responsive anymore, he lifted his head up to better look at his boyfriend.

“Babe?  You asleep?”

“No,” Louis said, eyes closed, body limp, breathing heavy.

“Yes, you are,” Harry said gently.

“ _No_ ,” Louis whined, “go back, want kisses.”  He lifted a blind hand up and dropped it immediately to the floor.

Harry lifted up Louis’ droopy body.  “Bedtime for you.”

Louis burrowed closer to Harry’s body heat and indistinctly whispered, “Bedtime for me...”

Harry looked down at the soft, sleepy boy in his arms and smiled mildly.  So, the dildo thing wouldn’t be happening tonight, he supposed.

 

* * *

 

“And what exactly did you think you were doing just now, hm?” Liam whispered into Zayn’s ear once Harry and Louis went upstairs.

Zayn had been lost in snogging Liam, and the question took him by surprise.  His mouth fell open, and his eyes scanned the room.  “W-what?  What are you talking about…”

Liam roughly grabbed Zayn’s chin and held it so he was forced to look straight ahead, right into Liam’s eyes looking down at him.  “First you think you’re funny by sitting on the toilet so I lose my dare,” Liam said, his hand leaving Zayn’s face to unbuckle Zayn’s belt.  “ _Then_ you have Harry kiss me.”

“It was just a game,” Zayn said quieter.  Something about Liam’s tone was frightening Zayn a bit, _exciting_ him with its power.  Just the position of lying on the floor helpless while Liam hovered above him…it was _doing_ things to him that he couldn’t describe.  Zayn allowed his eyes to slip closed as he felt Liam’s hands fumble around the top of his jeans, sliding his belt slowly out of every loop.

“Just a game?”

Zayn heard a loud cracking noise and jolted his eyes open.  Liam held Zayn’s belt in his hands and had folded it in half.  He’d pulled on it tightly to cause the sound.  Zayn stared at Liam’s hands, at the threatening belt _in_ his hands, before lifting his eyes back up to match Liam’s dark ones.

“Er.”  Zayn swallowed.  He knew what was going to happen, and his dick jerked inside his jeans.  “Yes, just—just a game…”

Liam narrowed his eyes before standing up and smiling threateningly.  “And no worries, love, you’re just going to get spanked for it.  Go find a bed and bend over it.”

Zayn’s mind, kind of fuzzy from alcohol, wasn’t making sense of Liam’s instructions.  And then there was Liam’s stern face that was looking down at him from so high above, intimidating him in the loveliest kinds of ways, holding a _belt_ , _his_ belt, so Zayn was blissfully confused.  He mumbled that he was sorry, but he didn’t know what Liam was talking about.

“The guest rooms down the hall, Zayn.  Get up, pick a room, and bend over it, arse out and ready for me.”

“Oh, sorry, a room,” Zayn said, sitting up and suddenly feeling very scrambly, like his brain was in too many pieces and he couldn’t even listen to a full sentence in its entirety.  He looked up at Liam again.  “Er…what else did you say I was to do…again?”

Liam looked unamused and stepped more into Zayn’s space, feet touching his legs.  “You weren’t listening?  Too busy thinking about Harry, hm?”

“What?  _No_ ,” Zayn said in horror.  “That was—earlier, that was only because I wanted to watch your lips while you kiss, Liam, _honest_ —“

“Stand up,” Liam repeated slowly, crossing his arms, “find a bed, and bend over it.”

“Okay,” Zayn replied.  He felt dizzy as he stood on two feet again, but he wanted to listen to what Liam told him to do.  He always just wanted to make Liam happy.  He would listen, and then he would take his spanking, and _then_ he’d feel so, so good afterwards…

Liam idly waited a few minutes for Zayn to obey then casually peeked in on the first guest room, then the second.  He finally spotted Zayn in the third room, his bare arse enticingly sticking out for Liam.  Zayn was naked from the waist down—no jeans, pants, or socks—and his face was pushed into the mattress so that he couldn’t see Liam walk up behind him.

“Who told you to take off your jeans?”  Liam asked, immediately reaching between Zayn’s legs to slide his fingers along Zayn’s hanging balls, his perineum, and finally up to his hole.  “Or your pants?”

Zayn felt embarrassed and exposed and prickly with arousal, and he shifted his weight on his feet.  He didn’t provide an answer, and when he felt Liam’s hand smack hard against his right arse cheek, he squeezed his eyes and gritted his teeth.

“Did I tell you to do that?”

“N-no.”

“Then put them back on.”

Zayn hit his knee in his haste to put his jeans back on, and he awkwardly re-zipped his jeans once his pants were somewhat up, as well.  He sucked in a giant breath as he stood in front of Liam again, waiting for approval.

“Bend back over.”

Zayn nodded and did as instructed.  _Shit_ , Liam was hot like this.  It was truly as if Zayn didn’t know what was to come next, like Liam could do _anything_ with him—anything at all—and it was turning Zayn on like mad.  The belt was still folded in half in Liam’s grip, and Liam drug the loop slowly along Zayn’s neck, down his spine, and then finally to his clothed arse where it rested.  Zayn shuddered.

“Now, I haven’t got any cream for you here, so I’m going to strike you over your jeans ten times for being bad tonight.  Do you agree that’s fair?”

Zayn looked kind of scared, but he still nodded.

“Good.”

Liam steadied himself behind Zayn and lifted the belt, the leather heavy in his hands.  This was where the unsureness came in.  He _knew_ Zayn wanted this, had talked about it with him endlessly during the past month—about all the kinks in that book they wanted to try out—but he’d never actually spanked Zayn with anything besides his hand.  He took a deep breath and lifted the belt even higher, muscles poised to bring it down sharply.

Zayn, anticipating that Liam was about to strike him, clenched his body tightly in response, almost in fright.  Liam’s mouth dropped in shock at once, and he lowered the belt and bent down beside Zayn.

“ _Hey_ ,” Liam whispered, holding onto Zayn’s shoulders gently and imploring that Zayn make eye-contact with him by shaking him lightly.  Liam was still at the stage where he was unsure if he was overstepping his bounds or if this behavior was just part of the territory.  “You know this is just for play, right?”

Zayn looked to the wall and quickly nodded his head.  He was so hard it _hurt_.

“Sure?”

Zayn swallowed.  “Yeah, I’m sure.”  His eyes moved to look at Liam.  “I want it.  Please, Liam…”

Liam exhaled.  “Then pick a word, something to say if you want me to stop, if it hurts too badly.”

Zayn shook his head.  That scrambled feeling was back again.  “Just, can you pick something for me?  I can’t— _Please?_ ”

Liam wildly looked around the room and fixed his eyes to something in the corner.  “Er…lamp.  Your word is lamp.”

“Okay.”  Zayn swallowed loudly, turned his head to rest on his forearms on the bed, and stuck out his bum even further.

“Say it for me, Zayn.  Say your word.”

“But I-I’m fine, I don’t need to say it.”

“Just show me that you know what it is.  Be good and say it.”

Zayn had almost forgotten it already.  “Lamp.”

“Good.” Liam lifted the belt again.  He tried to remember what Harry always did when he and Louis were doing this kind of thing.  He didn’t have many memories to go by, but—“Do you still remember why you’re getting punished?”

Zayn answered without pause, “I was teasing you.  And I made Harry kiss you.”

“And was that very nice?”

“No.”

“And what happens to bad boys?”

Zayn wasn’t sure what answer Liam was looking for.  He was currently bent over a bed with his arse sticking in the air, however, so he replied, “They get spanked…”

“Yes.  They do.”

Liam heaved in another big breath, thinking that what he was about to do was bloody _mad_ but still sexy as shit.  He lifted the belt and brought it down on Zayn’s arse firmly, and the leather made a loud, tight sound in the small room.  Liam repeated the same motion again and again, never changing the strength he used, and Zayn was almost completely silent.  He took his spanking like a good boy, just barely grunted each time.

Liam attentively watched Zayn’s face every time he struck him, listening to his sounds get progressively louder and then, eventually, choked off as Liam hit him for the last time.

He dropped the belt to the carpet with a dull noise.  “All done, babe, all done.”

Zayn nodded against the bed quickly and looked up to Liam.  His brown eyes were shady, and the dark, long lashes framing them made him look stunningly beautiful.  Liam was speechless.

“You took that so well.”

Zayn just nodded again, incapable of speech.  Liam took note of that as he removed Zayn of his clothes, paying extra attention to any painful-looking areas on his bum.  Zayn appeared to be fine, just in a sort of quiet, shaky state of arousal.  His arse was red, yes, but no more so than it usual got when Liam spanked him bare-arsed.  And, more importantly, Liam noticed that Zayn’s cock was even harder than it’d been when Liam had first walked in the room.

“Get all the way on the bed, on your stomach,” Liam ordered.  As Zayn crawled forward and sprawled out, Liam crept on top of him, straddling his arse.  He reached forward and gripped Zayn’s hair at the base of his neck, smiling at Zayn’s gasp.  “I’m going to fuck you now, baby.  You want that?” he asked gently.  “Want my cock in you?”

Zayn lifted his arse up to show Liam just how much he wanted that, but with a firm hand on the small of his back, Liam pushed Zayn’s hips back down.  “ _Yeah_.”

“I'm going to try something new.”

Zayn breathed loudly as he waited for what Liam would say next.

“I think I’m quite a nice boyfriend, don’t you, Zayn?”

Zayn nodded.

Liam squeezed the tufts of hair tightly in his grip.  “Answer out loud, please.”

“Yes.”

“I've always let you come whenever you want to, just about,” Liam said to himself, tracing a finger from his free hand along Zayn’s arse crack, finding what he was looking for and just barely inching inside.  “But from now on—“

Zayn knew what was coming, what Liam was going to say, and he groaned, both from the sensation of Liam’s finger inside him and at what he knew Liam was about to tell him.  _Their rules._

Liam sharply smacked Zayn’s arse with the hand previously holding his hair.  “Don’t whine to me, Zayn.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled against the bed sheets, breathing audibly.

“From now on,” Liam went on, pumping the tip of his dry finger in and out, “you don’t come unless I tell you to.  _I_ control you.  I control when you come, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Zayn moaned, so on edge that anything felt good, and really, Liam’s fingers were huge, so just a single one did feel good, it was just – he wanted _more_ , wanted Liam to really use him, fill him up and use him, and one finger _just wasn’t enough_.

Liam removed his finger from Zayn and lifted his shirt over his head.  Pulling out the lube from his pocket, he went back to fingering Zayn properly, with oiled-up fingers teasing the inside of Zayn’s arse.  Zayn sighed in contentment, beyond happy that he hadn’t complained when Liam removed his finger because now he was being rewarded with _two_.

“No cheeky comment about me carrying lube in my pockets?” Liam asked as he stuck two fingers in as far as they would go.  “Or has it just gotten to the point where you expect it?”

Zayn dropped his mouth and squeezed the sheets tightly.

Liam nudged his fingers around inside Zayn, making little lightning-quick movements and watching as Zayn tried to move his arse up against his hand for some type of friction.

Liam spanked him again.  “Stop it.  I’ll make you come, not yourself.  _My_ fingers, _my_ dick, not you.”

Zayn whined as his hips stuttered and stopped, and Liam began pumping his fingers in and out quickly in reward.  Zayn loudly moaned, and Liam figured that Harry and Louis would’ve easily been able to hear if they weren’t passed out already.

Liam added a third finger inside Zayn without warning, and Zayn made a noise deep inside his throat while Liam pushed his fingers in and out and spanked Zayn again, for no reason other than the noises it made Zayn emit.

“Fuck,” Zayn groaned, feeling his entire arse burning with the remnants of Liam’s hand.  “Oh, _fuck_ —“

Liam felt like he was going to come in his pants just watching how debauched Zayn looked.  “Like getting spanked and fingered at the same time, baby?”

Zayn’s body was wound tight, his muscles clenched, sheets still tangled up in his hands, eyes shut, and he nodded desperately.  He didn’t like it; he _loved_ it, and he didn’t know what he was saying, but he thought he was chanting _yes_.  Yes, yes, yes, always yes.

“Been so naughty, deserve to be spanked all night, Zayn.”

And _more_ , and _yes_ , and _fuck_ , and _please_ , and all Zayn knew were fingers stretching him out, hitting areas deep inside his arse that made his stomach coil, sharp stings on his skin as Liam struck him again and again, and his own babbling against the sheets, drool falling from his open mouth.

Zayn’s body suddenly jerked, and he pushed his front-half up with his hands.  “That’s gonna make me come, _Liam_ , ah, stop, _stop_ , _ahh_ ,” he said quickly, afraid he was going to burst any instant.

Liam withdrew his fingers slowly and with difficulty since Zayn’s arse had clenched on them in order to hold his orgasm in.  And then suddenly he was away from Zayn, taking off the rest of his clothes, and the momentary emptiness was worth it because when Liam covered Zayn’s back and prodded his huge, throbbing cock into Zayn’s more-than-ready hole, Zayn positively rumbled with pleasure, his arse red and sore and filled and _Liam’s_.

“ _Fuck me, oh, shit, fuck me_ , Liam,” Zayn groaned, his voice not even sounding like his own.  He only cared about Liam’s huge cock, Liam’s huge cock _taking_ him, burning and splicing and _fucking him._

“I will, baby, don't worry,” Liam said, moving gruffly.  “I’m gonna fuck you so fucking good.”

And Liam did.  Liam fucked Zayn roughly that night, making a show of going fast and then teasingly slow, turning it into a proper workout and never once letting Zayn come.  It was difficult for Zayn to be on edge like that, dick trapped between his stomach and the bed, but he still loved every second of it, despite wanting to cry a few times.  He just loved feeling limp and raw and _used_ underneath Liam, pliant to whatever Liam wanted to do to him, and when Liam rolled him over to come on him, Zayn moaned loudly just at being able to finally see Liam’s cock.

Liam groaned out Zayn’s name long and deep as he covered Zayn’s neck and chest with his release, and he barely gave himself time to recover before sliding himself down Zayn’s sweaty body and dropping his mouth on Zayn’s cock.

Zayn’s knees jolted upwards at the sensation, but he was good at staying still, so he didn't thrust upwards, just moved his hands to touch and spread around the cum on his neck that Liam had given him.  Liam stopped moving his lips up and down and just _sucked_ then, rhythmically suctioning his mouth with an almost-painful strength.

“Shit, Liam, it’s coming—ah, _oh_ —“

Liam lifted his mouth to just use his hand on Zayn’s cock.  Zayn screwed up his face and whimpered, but when Liam moved his other hand below Zayn’s balls, sticking two fingers inside and pistoning there to the pace of his other hand, Zayn threw his head back.

“Who’s the one making you come, Zayn?”

“ _You_ ,” Zayn moaned.  “Ple— _please_ …don’t stop – _gonna come_ –”

Liam smirked and kept rapidly stroking up and down until Zayn’s cock twitched and then finally spilled out, hot and slimy, all over his stomach.  Liam didn’t stop moving the pads of his fingers inside of Zayn or stop the motions of his other hand until he felt Zayn slightly back away from him and move up the bed, shaking.

Liam followed him, dropping his left hand from Zayn’s cock but keeping the fingers of his right hand inside Zayn, moving them even faster against Zayn’s prostate, _forcing_ his next orgasm from him, and it was too much.

“Liam, _Liam_ ,” Zayn whimpered, trembling.

Liam was unrelenting, and he pressed down hard on the bottom of Liam’s cum-covered stomach with his free hand while still massaging Zayn’s prostate deep inside with his fingertips, and Zayn’s body jolted as his cock spurted out, adding to the mess of slimy, white cum all over his torso.

“S-s-shit,” he quivered.  He looked to Liam, at Liam’s hand still down below, and shook his head.  “I can’t—“

Liam wiped his fingers off onto the bedspread and crawled up to kiss Zayn, and Zayn just exhaustedly accepted Liam’s tongue until Liam collapsed beside him on the bed, sweaty and still breathing heavily.

Zayn was in shock.

“I can’t—I’m just—my body is just really—“ Zayn looked pained, trying to find words to describe how he felt.  His backside ached, but not really, and his body was sweaty but chilly, and he was certain an electric current was running through his veins because his limbs couldn’t stop shaking.  He looked down at his body—at all the cum everywhere—whimpered.

“It’s okay, hey, calm down, it’s okay,” Liam soothed, cradling Zayn’s head in his hands and pulling Zayn in to his chest.  He rocked side-to-side lightly. “You’re fine.  I’m right here, you’re fine.”

Zayn exhaled loudly and nodded his head, the shocked look on his face that came from orgasming so hard two times in a row eventually melting away to something more soft.

Liam held Zayn like that for a minute until Zayn finally moved to rest his head on the pillow again.  Zayn’s eyes were closed, and he looked peaceful.  Sweaty, beautiful, and peaceful.  Liam didn’t understand how a perfection like Zayn came into existence.  He was a walking statue, something other-worldly, and Liam was self-satisfied that he could please Zayn so completely, that he could _give_ him blissed-out expression.

Liam let his eyes roam from Zayn’s face.  A pool of Liam’s semen had deposited in the little crevice between Zayn’s clavicles, not to mention the numerous stripes of cum from Zayn himself, and Liam made a pained noise at the sight.

“Fucking covered in cum, baby,” Liam marveled, reaching out and stroking Zayn’s jaw.  Zayn smiled a little bit and then snuggled in beside Liam, eventually losing consciousness.

Sometime later, Zayn realized he’d fallen asleep as he felt Liam drag something heavy and rough and wet along his neck and stomach and then later around his genitals, and he kept his eyes closed.  Finally, he felt a heavy blanket cover him, then the warmth from Liam’s body next to his again, and he blindly curled up against it before automatically dropping into sleep again.

Liam did not sneak into Harry and Louis’ room later that night, did not tip-toe into their bathroom, and did not go through their cupboards for cream to put on Zayn’s bum while he was sleeping.

 

* * *

 

Zayn sighed and finally pulled out his laptop, his naughty thoughts ultimately winning out.   He’d told himself all day to _just stop thinking about the dildo_ , but he couldn’t.  It was impossible.

Today Liam was out shopping for shoes or something, and Zayn didn’t want to risk being photographed with him, so he stayed at home.  He didn’t mind being home alone.  Especially during times like this, when his mind was fixated on one thing and one thing only: that fucking toy.

 _Tomorrow_.  Tomorrow he and Liam were going to Harry and Louis’ house where _it_ would finally happen.  It unfortunately hadn’t happened last time (even though Zayn couldn’t complain about the night he _had_ had), and the anticipation that had built during the next two weeks was fucking tangible.  Everyone was acting so anxious that even Niall had asked what was going on.

Zayn couldn’t wait for even one day more.  He just couldn’t.  Louis had even been taking up a lot of his time lately with _another_ plan for tomorrow night that they were working on together, but...no.  Zayn’s thoughts about the damn toy were taking over, and it was just so hard to be patient when he wanted it so bad.

His fingers moved automatically along the keyboard, and tons of images popped up.  When Zayn noticed they were all pictures of girls, he amended his search and clicked on the first video he saw.

The video wasted no time with introductions and went directly to the action.  Immediately, Zayn’s cock grew painfully hard, and he only became sore and uncomfortable as he continued to watch but not touch himself.  The two blokes using the dildo were on their hands and knees facing away from one another, fucking _filthy_ with the way they moved back and forth, and the _things they were saying_ —

Zayn slammed his laptop shut.

“Holy fuck,” he said on an exhale.

He couldn’t fucking help it.  He was too hard, and he caved. 

Some weird psychological part of his brain told him as he slipped off his jeans that he was being naughty, so he foolishly just scurried into the bathroom while he palmed his dick, trying to get a little privacy even though he knew he was alone.

Zayn kept his pants on while he wanked—dry so Liam wouldn’t suspect anything if he found any traces of lube on him somehow—and fixated on the fantasy of him and _Louis_ on their hands and knees, bodies connected by a dildo, slamming themselves back and forth, arse-to-arse, repeatedly.  Liam would be watching, maybe even jerking Zayn off while watching Zayn fuck the toy, whispering filthy words to him about how he was such a slut—

Zayn’s hand impulsively moved along the tip of his cock to squeeze there as he felt his balls contract, and he wasn’t very loud when he came, his deep moans muffled by biting his lip.  Bits of toilet rolls he held in his other hand had caught his hurried release, and Zayn sighed deeply as he threw it in the toilet, flushed it, and tucked his dick back into the flap of his underwear.

Zayn walked to the sink to wash his hands, and he ran his fingers through his hair as he turned around and walked back to his bedroom.  He wasn’t expecting a tall, broad figure to be blocking his way.

“Liam!” Zayn yelled, putting a hand to his chest as he stopped dead in his tracks.  “You scared the _shit_ out of me, _fuck_.”

The look of surprise on Zayn’s face almost made Liam laugh.  Almost.  He crossed his arms instead, raising an eyebrow menacingly, and Zayn effectively shut up.  He looked to the floor.

“You…heard all of that, then?”

“Yep.  Heard that, saw that,” Liam shrugged.

Knowing he broke a rule and had obviously been caught red-handed, Zayn kept looking down.  “Fuck.”

Liam smiled.  “Fuck is right.  Get on the bed.”

Zayn hesitated.  He knew exactly what the consequence to his action was supposed to be, had _agreed_ to it even, but…he wasn’t sure if Liam would actually enforce it.  Maybe he’d just get a spanking instead.  “W-what are you going to do?”

“What do you think I’m going to do?” Liam asked simply.  “You broke the rule, and we agreed that if you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, then you’d wear the—“

Zayn interrupted Liam with a groan.  “ _Liam_ …”

“On the bed,” Liam repeated, deeper and slower this time.

“But…”

“But what?”

“But tomorrow’s the charity dinner,” Zayn said quietly.  “And afterwards, we’re going to Louis and Harry’s…Remember?”

“Yeah,” Liam recollected.  “I remember.  Perfectly well.”

“But…”

“On. The. Bed.”

Zayn sighed and hesitantly began walking away.  Liam softly grabbed onto his elbow to stop him.

“Baby,” Liam said, softer this time, “you don’t have to wear it if you really don’t want to.  Just so you know, though, we can take it off before anything happens with them tomorrow if that’s what you’re worried about.  And you know that at any time, if you can’t take it anymore, to just use your word.”

Zayn nodded but still looked troubled about something.  Liam, assuming it was out of the discomfort he knew he was about to endure, just pointed to the bed again.  Zayn hopped on it, right in the middle, and stared at Liam guiltily.  Liam was perfect for this role, Zayn thought, with how strict his face was, how serious he was about _rules_ and _punishment_.  Zayn squirmed waiting for him to give his next instruction.

“Take off your trousers,” Liam ordered, turning around and shuffling through a little box on their dresser.

Zayn nodded and quietly obeyed.  He hadn’t even actually yet seen in real life what Liam was fishing for—had only been aware that Liam had purchased it—but he knew it was only fair that he wore it.  He broke the rules, after all.

Liam crawled on the bed with a hand behind his back.  “And now your pants.”

Zayn quietly and quickly removed his boxers until he was completely nude and vulnerable to Liam.  He instinctively covered himself up, but Liam moved his arms away again.

“Don’t be shy now, babe.”

Zayn just took a shaky breath.

It was then that Liam presented the object in behind his back to Zayn: a chastity device.  Or, more crudely, a cock cage.  Designed to keep a male _pure,_ Liam was going to put it on Zayn’s dick because he had explicitly broken the rule of not masturbating.  It was what they had agreed to.

Zayn had actually never seen a cock cage in person before.  They had been mentioned in the book they’d borrowed from Harry, but there weren’t any pictures next to the description or anything, and Zayn was perplexed.  What Liam had in his hands looked alien, and Zayn couldn’t make sense of it.  There were a few pieces, some little sections and then what was obviously the larger piece to go over his penis, and they all appeared to be some sort of see-through material, maybe plastic.  Liam lifted them in front of Zayn’s face.

“As a punishment for wanking, you’ll wear this for at least the next twenty-four hours.  It’ll remind you of your misbehavior and _hopefully_ remind you that I’m the only one who controls when you get to come.”

Zayn felt shame, but he was surprised to find that instead of making him shy away from Liam, the emotion was arousing him and drawing him _closer_ to Liam in some fucked-up way.  He both dreaded the cage _and_ looked forward to it at the same time.

“Lie back and try to be still,” Liam instructed.

Zayn nodded and watched Liam’s serious face as he read the instructions that came with the item.  Luckily, Zayn had just come, so his cock was limp, making the whole process a little easier. 

First, Liam put a ring around both Zayn’s testicles and penis, a tight piece that squeezed all his bits together and made Zayn draw up his knees and hiss with discomfort.  Then there was some other complicated process with another little piece, and Zayn just stared at Liam’s face while his fingers moved about down below.

“Zayn, stop thinking whatever you’re thinking,” Liam murmured.  “You’re getting hard again.”

Zayn looked down at himself and took a deep breath.  “Sorry…”

Liam sighed, but truthfully, he was stiffening, as well, just by seeing _Zayn_ get hard.  Zayn fucking _liked_ this.  He was…he was _enjoying_ being humiliated like this.

Next, Liam put the larger part on, the part that went over Zayn’s penis, and it was difficult to secure it.  Liam was determined to make it work, however, and he held Zayn’s dick with one hand while pushing the plastic downwards.  Instead of laughing at the awkwardness, Zayn whimpered at that part because the plastic slid along the delicate skin of his shaft, and everything felt horribly tight, too tight.

“Liam,” he whined, “Liam, _ow_ …”

“Shh, there, there,” Liam soothed as he lifted a tiny padlock and situated it in his thumb and forefinger.  “Just about done.”  He hooked the padlock onto the side of the contraption and looked up at Zayn’s face.  “There we go.  All done.”  He leaned up Zayn’s body and kissed him.  “How’s it feel?”

Zayn frowned.  “Tight.  Really tight.  Not comfortable.”

Liam smirked.  “Good.  I hope it’ll make you remember the rules, then.”

“I _do_ remember the rules,” Zayn sulked.

Liam’s eyes narrowed, and he smiled balefully.  “Of course you do.”

“I don’t get the lock,” Zayn said, looking down to see how he looked wearing the device.  It was…it was _embarrassing_.  And what was worse, Zayn _liked_ it.

“The ring, the actual cage, all of it—they’ve got these holes on the sides—see?—and then the padlock goes through all the little holes to keep them all together.  You can’t take it off without the key.”  Liam was obvious as he reached in his back pocket for his wallet and hid the key in a fold there.

“Oh,” Zayn just said.  “Do I have to wear this in the shower?”

Liam just nodded.  "You can't take it off without the key."

“What about in the toilets, then?” Zayn panicked a little.  “The dinner tomorrow—what if I’ve got to—“

“Then you go in one of the stalls.  There’s a hole at the end there for everything to come out of.  Think you can do it?”

“Yes,” Zayn whispered with a nod.  He looked down at his dick again, and it was clearly visible against the sides of the cage, swollen and small-looking in too-tiny a space.

“I certainly hope so,” Liam said softly, pulling Zayn’s boxers back up his legs.  He didn’t miss Zayn’s balls, dark and confined, begin to swell against their constraints.  “Hope I can trust you to not find a way to get off while wearing this.”

Zayn lifted his bum so Liam could slide the pants all the way up.  “You can.  I promise.”

“I mean it.  Don’t touch yourself, inside or out.”

Zayn shook his head, just wanting to make Liam happy.  “I won’t, I promise.”

Liam rolled over to Zayn’s side.  “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m quite turned on now after watching that little show in there,” he said, shucking off his jeans and snaking his hand inside his own boxers while looking at Zayn.  As he began softly caressing his cock, he groaned a bit so it would be evident to Zayn what he was doing.  “Mmm…”

Zayn’s eyes widened incredulously.  “You’re really having a wank right now?”

“’Course…”  Liam bit his lip and stared at Zayn, naked and all locked up for being bad.  “You’ve got me hard…”

Liam’s hips began minutely moving against the rhythm of his hand, and Zayn shifted to try to pull down Liam’s boxers.  With Liam’s free hand, he pushed Zayn back on the bed.  “Don’t even think about moving.  You’re to sit there and watch.  How’d you think it felt when I saw you doing this without me?”

Zayn pouted and watched Liam’s hand move ever more vigorously under his pants, and he just longed to be able to _see_ something.  His head flopped back onto his pillow.

Liam groaned.  “I said to watch.”

Zayn did so, frowning the entire time he watched the movement of Liam’s hand inside his underwear.  Liam bit his lip and grunted as he came inside his boxers in one of the most underwhelming orgasms of his life.  He sighed and smugly looked to Zayn before going to the bathroom to clean up and change.

When he got back, he was surprised to see Zayn curled up under the covers looking small and worried.

Liam crawled in beside Zayn and gently caressed his back.  “Babe…can you – do you think you can do this?”

“Yes,” Zayn said, snuffling though he wasn’t crying.  He looked unhappy.

Liam wrapped his arms around Zayn’s tiny body.  “Then what’s wrong?  You sure you’re okay?”

“Fine,” Zayn sighed.  “I…I just don’t understand how I’m—how I’m feeling right now.”

“Talk to me.”

Zayn shook his head.  “It’s fucked up.”

“No, it’s not.”

Zayn sighed again.  “It’s like…Am I supposed to feel this way?  Do people _feel_ this way when they wear these things?”

“I don’t…How is it that you feel?”

“Like… _degraded_ , but like I like it,” Zayn answered quietly.

Liam squeezed onto Zayn tightly but quickly released, not wanting to show Zayn how _hot_ that was when he was clearly distraught about it.  “Yeah, babe.  Yeah.”  He cleared his throat.  “We read about that, remember?  Some people do certain stuff like this _because_ it makes them feel that way.  There’s nothing wrong with it.  As long as everything’s safe and consensual, it’s fine, remember?”

Zayn nodded.  “It’s just odd to feel like this.  To…feel like…. _embarrassed_.  But to like it.”

Liam pressed a kiss to Zayn’s shoulder.  “It’s just new, that’s all.  If you like it, then everything’s fine.  Don’t overthink it.”

“Yeah,” Zayn half-heartedly agreed.

“Baby, really, it’s okay to like what you like,” Liam said softly, sensing that Zayn was still conflicted.  “When I went online to buy it, I actually found this story about a bloke who bought this exact one, and he wore it just to see what it was like.  For three whole days.  So…I mean, there are tons of people who wear these under their clothes and no one even knows…and tons of them have probably felt just like you have.  And have liked it.”  Liam shrugged.  “Nothing wrong with it at all, babe.”

“Yeah,” Zayn said shakily, nodding.  “Yeah.  You're right.  I feel better now.  Thanks, Li.”

Liam just leaned forward and kissed Zayn’s hair.  He slid his hand down to rest on top of Zayn’s penis, and he kept it there all night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I've learned to stop making promises before I know I can keep them. I've learned I can't make everyone happy. And I've learned that things flow better when I don't feel pressure to please. But at the same time, hope everyone still liked it in some little way. 
> 
> Lots of fun stuff to come next chapter, and hopefully it won't take so long to post. (And I have made the decision, and I hate to take back my word/disappoint/anger ANYBODY, but the story's gonna progress basically how it has now--just couples doing coupley stuff. Including Harry and Liam letting their boyfriends share a double-dildo.)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis and Zayn get to use the double-dildo together; however, the night ends up differently than they'd originally planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags that Apply: Overstimulation (a crazy amount of overstimulation), Humiliation Kink, Power/Control Kink, Cock-Cages, Cock-Rings, Coming Untouched, Double-Dildo, Lapdance/Striptease, Multiple Orgasms, Subspace, Breath-Play, Collars, Daddy Kink
> 
> And probably other stuff, too! BE PREPARED FOR A HUGELY UNREALISTIC AMOUNT OF SEMEN AND COMING IN THIS CHAPTER

Harry sighed at his reflection in the mirror as he continued to fumble with his tie. 

Sometimes he almost regretted having a mother like Anne who had always been so great at helping him do simple things like _tying ties_ because now he could never remember what in the hell he was doing, and _now_ looked like a bloody five-year-old had dressed him.

Harry quickly re-did the knot under his fingers, rolling his eyes at himself for forgetting how to do it properly.  Although he was in the band’s special dressing room only minutes away from attending the event—a charity dinner where “important” people like management were already outside schmoozing—he didn’t even care how he looked.  Maybe he’d even take the damn tie off.

But _no_.   _He was going to wear the tie._   Louis loved him in ties.  He was determined to get it right, if only to look good for Louis.  And to maintain the semblance that he had control over his huge hands.

At least he knew he had control over them in other situations.  That was a bit of consolation, he supposed.

He sighed again and let his eyes wander around the mirror’s reflections as he unknotted his tie for the fourth time, as usual settling his eyes on his boyfriend who was currently behind him, sat on a large sofa with Zayn.  Louis and Zayn had been hanging out together a lot more than usual during the entire week.  They were probably sharing their excitement about using that damn dildo together, but they appeared to be secretive about it.  Too secretive.  Louis had to be a fool to think that Harry wouldn’t have noticed.

Zayn suddenly looked quite peaked for some reason, and Harry surmised it was because he hated events like this.  Though they were for a good cause, Zayn hated the socializing and really just the entire scene of having to dress up to impress not the _charity_ but the other people in attendance.  He always complained about how ironic it appeared.  Once he stood up and disappeared (probably to smoke a cigarette somewhere judging by how nervous he seemed), Louis walked to the mirror and smiled fondly at Harry fussing over his appearance.

Harry momentarily gave up on his plight with his tie and turned to Louis.  “What’re you and Zayn planning, then?”

Louis’ lips turned up at the sides.  “And what makes you think we’re planning something, Harold?”

Harry took a step closer to Louis and quirked an eyebrow.  Louis’d been acting out all week, pushing Harry’s buttons just because he could, and he was in for a severe surprise tonight if he thought that Harry would continue being amenable with him.  “Because I can read you like a book.  I do know you better than anyone, love.  Best to remember that.”

Louis smiled bigger, and, just now noticing Harry’s tie, lifted his hands to fix it.  “Are you about to clock in to your nine-to-five office job or something?  What _is_ this?”

“No one said it was black-tie or anythi—,” Harry started, but then finished, “Don’t change the subject.”

“Fine,” Louis relented while his nimble fingers moved Harry’s tie about in an intricate way.  “Zayn and I have been… _talking,_ yes.  About tonight.”

Harry hid his smile at knowing he was correct.  “And what about tonight, then?”

“I can’t tell you; it’s a surprise.”

“What kind of surprise?”

Louis grinned.  “ _I can’t tell you_.”

“Actually, I could get you to tell me in a heartbeat,” Harry retorted with a frown, “but I suppose I’ll play along for now.  Give me a hint.”

Louis clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth at Harry’s persistence.  “So demanding.  But _okay_ , I’ll give you a hint.”  Louis was enjoying feeling like he had a bit of supremacy over Harry, a position he wasn’t used to being in but that he currently savored.  Like a mouse challenging a cat, he said slowly, “ _It is a surprise_ …that you will like a lot.”

Harry impassively looked at Louis.  Once Louis secured Harry’s tie with a cute little smile, Harry grabbed Louis’ hands and lowered them.  “That could be many, many things.”

“Exactly.”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows at Louis’ teasing attitude.  He was _so_ going to get spanked later on.  It’d been going on for too long.  Louis had been good for a long time after he and Harry’d had that fight, but lately, his behavior had grown more and more naughty towards Harry, surpassing his normal boisterousness and becoming downright unruly for no reason at all.

Dropping Louis’ hands, Harry folded his arms across his chest, looking big and important in his suit.  “And what’s Zayn got to do with this, then?”

Louis rolled his eyes and laughed.  “It’s a surprise!”

“Hmm…I think I can figure it out easily enough.”  Harry knew it had to do with the double-dildo.  They were dying to use it; that much was obvious.  _Everyone_ had been itching for it ever since it had been merely _mentioned_ all those weeks ago, honestly.

“Oh, yeah, wise boyfriend of mine?  What do you think it is, then?” Louis asked, pulling on Harry’s tie and walking backwards as Harry began walking forwards, his shoulders pushed forward and his back slightly rounded as he fixed his gaze down on Louis.

“ _I can’t tell you_ ,” Harry mocked.

“ _Grump-y Har-ry_ ,” Louis said deeply with a pout, “ _so up-set because he doesn’t know his sur-prise_.” 

Louis was thrilled.  He wanted Harry to be in the dark about what he and Zayn had planned for later on.  Of course, using the toy together would ultimately have to happen tonight, as well, but Louis had approached Zayn recently with _another_ idea: the excellent, fantastic, sexy idea to put on a tiny strip tease for their boys.  Because—why not?  Why not show off their bodies before sharing the dildo together and making Liam and Harry just _die_ with the need to fuck them?  It would be lovely, and Louis internally rejoiced at how _horny_ it was undeniably going to make Harry.

“Hmm,” Harry replied.  With surly eyes, he said, “Well, I don’t much _love_ the idea of you planning with Zayn behind my back, Lou…Keeping _secrets_ from me… _Teasing_ me with them…”

Louis’ voice was light and coy as he next spoke, “I know you don’t, Daddy, but I promise you’ll really, really like it.  I’ve been practicing something extra special just for you…”

 _Fuck_.  And just like that— _bam_ —the tides had turned.  Louis had said _Daddy_.  Harry was _so_ fucked, but he didn’t show it.  Couldn’t.

Louis’ back landed hard against the wall with a thud, and he could no longer move.  Harry hovered over Louis, and, bracing his hands on either side of Louis’ head—hands that were shortly ago so inept, now turned dominant—he deeply inhaled as he tried to regain his composure.  Slowly, so, so slowly, Harry whispered, “I’m not quite sure where you’ve gotten the idea to tease _Daddy_ this way, but you _do_ realize it’s rather bratty of you, don’t you?”

The hold Louis had on Harry’s tie loosened, and his hands fell flat on the wall, gripping at nothing.  “Yes.”

“And you realize Daddy doesn’t tolerate brattiness, don’t you?”

Louis tilted his face upwards, eyes heavy and lips begging to be kissed already.  “I do.”

Harry moved a hand to trace Louis’ face from his brow and down his cheek until finally reaching his jawline.  “Well, then, the only logical explanation I can come up with is that you would _like_ Daddy to punish you, then.  Would that be correct?”

Louis’ mouth fell open in arousal.  _Yes_.  “M-maybe.”

Harry smirked.  “Good thing I bought my baby such a lovely little thing to take his punishments with, then.  We’ll certainly have to use it tonight.  To make up for a whole weeks’ worth of acting out, yeah?”

Louis had to close his mouth to swallow; he had begun salivating.  “Er…Wh—what did you buy?”

Harry leaned forward, breath damp and hot on Louis’ ear, and whispered, “ _It’s a surprise_.”

Louis whimpered.  “That’s not fair—”

“You’re still fairly certain that you want to carry on with this behavior?”

Louis’ eyes fell from Harry’s eyes to his mouth.  He stared at Harry’s wet lips as he nodded his head slowly and whispered, “Positive.”

“Positive,” Harry repeated, smirking.  “Well, then, you just keep on conspiring with Zayn, sweetheart, and do what you need to do to _practice_ , because you’re going to be in for a _surprise_ yourself after tonight’s over with.”

Harry propelled himself off of the wall then, leaving Louis feeling drunk with all the cool air he could now breathe, and, to recover from that attack on his senses, Louis shook his head and rapidly blinked his eyes for a few moments.

“Run along to the lobby now,” Harry ordered gently while discreetly trying to adjust his trousers. “That silent auction should’ve just begun out there…”

Louis just _knew_ he had gotten Harry hard, and he grinned, noticeably bit his bottom lip into his mouth in the exact fashion he knew drove Harry mad, and walked outside to make his way to the lobby like Harry’d asked.  Harry stared at Louis’ retreating form and, as Louis’ arse swayed with each of his steps, he told himself that, _yes_ , the paddle was _definitely_ coming out tonight.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the night went by slowly.

There were speeches, lots of speeches.  Because management were there, Harry and Louis were sat apart from one another in the banquet room, but Harry still communicated to Louis with his eyes across the table. 

And he could tell that Louis was receiving his messages.  Even from this far away, Harry could tell he was squirming in his seat each time Harry barely looked his way.

Harry listened attentively to the guest speakers, clapped at all the appropriate times, made small-talk with the people with whom the band were sat—all of the normal social niceties that were expected at events such as these.  The band even sang a song for the audience before dinner was served.  Sat on stools, they sang one of their slower ballads with only Niall playing guitar, and the song was sweet.  Harry looked serious, and he turned to Louis whenever it was his turn to sing, as if delivering the lyrics to Louis directly.

Harry’s conduct could be considered quite bold, and Louis’ demeanor had changed, as well.  Ever since Harry promised that he’d be spanked later on, he’d become quiet, more reserved than earlier in the night.  Other people looking in from the outside would think he was sick or upset, but Harry knew he was just inside his head.  He was thinking of all of the things Harry could do to him tonight, was contemplating all his prior behavior, was trying to tone down his flamboyance now so maybe Harry’d have mercy on him with whatever it was he’d bought. 

 _And what had he bought?_   He knew that was the question that Louis was centering on the most.

Harry ate his meal quietly with a firm gaze on Louis the entire time, slightly shaking his head when Louis went in for his third glass of wine.  When the speeches were through and the last of the food had been eaten, it should have been time to finally go, but, unfortunately, everyone had to stick around for the presentation of the auction items…and to have photographs taken…and to _converse_ even more with others.  Louis dreaded it.

Harry could’ve done it all night, however; he was just made for socializing.  And Louis knew a tiny part of Harry’s prolonging their exit was to punish him further.  When asked by a nice woman what was in store for the band after the event, Harry had replied that he was just going to “have a quiet night in,” and Louis hated that he had to hide his smirk for the sake of the people around him.

Louis was done with it all.  And judging by Zayn’s face, so was he.  They’d given tens of thousands of pounds to this charity, and they wanted the attention to be on the _charity_ , not on all of the rich people there making small-talk about nothing.  Where were the discussions about those _benefitting_ from the charity?

Suddenly, Zayn was close by Louis’ side, lingering, pulling on his sleeve insistently.

“I need the toilets,” he whispered to Louis, looking close to being ill.

“Er, okay,” Louis replied, standing on his tip-toes to look around.  “They’re over there, I think.  I’ll go with you…”

They shuffled together through the lingering crowds, Zayn staring at the floor the whole while.  “You about to be sick, mate?” Louis asked.

Zayn shook his head, but the manner in which he pushed the bathroom door open suggested differently.

Luckily, the room was empty, and Zayn went directly for the taps.  His breath was close to hyperventilation, only quieter, and Louis watched in concern.  Collecting water in his hands, Zayn splashed his face and ran his hands through his hair nervously, making little groaning noises as he pulled at the roots there. 

Louis wasn’t so positive about Zayn saying he wasn’t about to be sick.  He looked _mad_.  Louis’d literally never seen Zayn look so…unkempt.  Then he came to his senses.  He _needed_ Zayn for tonight.  He was depending on him.  If Zayn couldn’t do his part of the dance thing, Louis would just look stupid.  The whole thing would fail and he’d just look dumb if Zayn somehow backed out now.

“What’s _wrong_ with you?” Louis asked, almost accusatory.

Zayn looked at Louis almost angrily through the mirror.  “What’s wrong with _you_?”

Louis blinked.  “Wh—Nothing’s…nothing’s wrong with me…”

“Don’t lie.  You look like you did that night you had that plug shoved up your arse,” Zayn said bluntly.

Louis hesitated and then sighed heavily.  “I-I’m going to get—Harry’s gonna spank me with something tonight, and I’m going to get—punished,” he finished, a little grimace on his face.

Zayn leaned against the wall.  “Great.  Brilliant.  So you can’t do it either.”

“I!” Louis missed what Zayn meant by that because he had already become defensive.  “I didn’t say that, but if—if I can’t do it, then I can’t help it, mate!  I mean, if I’m already to be punished, if I do— _that_ —then I’ll just get punished _more_.”

“Why’s he punishing you?” Zayn asked.

Louis looked at Zayn curiously.  His breath still hadn’t died down, and he was acting fidgety.  “For teasing him.  So don’t you see?  I don’t…I don’t guess I can do it, either, not if _you’re_ not gonna do it with me.  I can’t do a strip- _tease_ because I’m literally already in trouble for—Jesus _Christ_ , Zayn, what the fuck is wrong with you?  Honestly?”

Zayn hit his head against the wall before walking to a stall in the corner of the room.  “Just…fuck.  Just come in here.”

It was cramped with Louis inside the stall with him, and Zayn quickly locked the door.  He wasted no time in unzipping his trousers, and Louis backed up against the wall and held up his hands.  “What the bloody—“

“Shut up,” Zayn said gruffly.  He pulled his trousers and pants down to his mid-thigh, exposing himself to Louis with closed eyes.

Louis gasped.  His eyes were huge as he stared at Zayn’s cock open-mouthed, trapped and smushed inside the littlest, weirdest looking… _thing_ Louis had ever seen.  _He knew what that was._   And it was eerily similar to the cock ring Harry used on him sometimes.  But worse.  Way, way worse.  It trapped up his entire dick!  Louis could only imagine what it had to feel like for Zayn.  He lifted his head up to look Zayn in the eye.

“Holy hell, Zayn!” he hissed.  “What have you got that on for?”

“Touched myself yesterday,” Zayn muttered, buttoning his trousers again and looking at Louis with a pained look.  “It hurts so bad, Lou, _fuck_ , it hurts so bad, and it’s all I can think about.  Every step I take, my fucking balls rub against my—”

“Relax.  Slow down, yeah?” Louis said sympathetically, putting his hands up in a calming gesture.  “How long have you got to wear it?”

Zayn screwed his face up, looking on the verge of tears.  “I don’t _know_.  I can’t do the thing tonight, Louis, there’s no way, it’s gonna be impossible—”

“Okay,” Louis sighed. “Okay.  It’s fine.  We can do it…another time.”  Louis immediately thought to the lounge where they already had everything set up—dark sheets draped across all the furniture and the floor, Louis’ iPod already connected to the speakers, the playlist Zayn had made complete and ready to play, fucking _glitter_ on the floor….everything.

Zayn was losing it.  “Everyone knows.  There’s so many people here, Lou, and everyone knows I’m wearing this, I can just _tell_ , and shit, this is so fucked up.  I feel like I’m gonna come out of my skin, I—”

“No one knows, Z,” Louis tried soothing in his softest voice. “I couldn’t even tell.”  He looked down to Zayn’s crotch again.  “It’s impossible to look at you and know, even in _those_ trousers, that you’re wearing…that.”

“I’m walking funny – look like a knob, and everyone’s looking at me –“

“No one’s looking at you, mate,” Louis said, wrapping his arm around Zayn’s shaking shoulders the best he could in the small stall.

“They _are_ ,” Zayn sniffed, “and it’s just—more intense.  ‘Cause it’s like, it’s like, they _know_ , they know I’ve been bad, and, and it’s fucking _making me horny_ , and— _argggh_ —I need a fucking cigarette!”

“Zayn, _please_ calm down.  We’re going to be done with this soon, yeah?  And Liam can take care of you at the house, take it off for you maybe?  Just…hang in there.”

Zayn made a strange noise of frustration.  “Shit, I need to be fucked.  I really need to be fucked.  I feel like I should be rock solid right now, but it’s impossible, and everything hurts, and Liam keeps ignoring me, and it’s making me _harder_ —”

Louis sighed.  “I know the feeling,” he mumbled.  Harry had been doing the same thing all night.  Almost.  If only giving Louis dark looks from time to time could count as _ignoring_.

Zayn nodded then looked like he was going to cry again.

“Mate, is it really that bad?”  Zayn just ran his hands through his hair in response. “Look, if it’s that bad, can’t you safe-word out?”

“I don’t _want_ to safe-word out,” Zayn whispered.

“Then why—“ began Louis, but he shook his head once he understood.  _Oh_.  Zayn _liked_ it.  He had been dealing with this all night long—thinking people were looking at him, thinking everyone knew he was wearing the cage—but he _liked_ it.  “Okay, look.  Do this and see if it helps.  When you’re walking, or when you’re just standing around like we’ve been doing, pinch your skin where you can.  Like your wrist or stomach or leg or something.  Really dig in if you have to.  It’ll obviously hurt, but it’ll keep your mind off everything else until we all can leave.”

Zayn exhaled through pursed lips.  Louis massaged his shoulders in a quick, reassuring gesture, then discreetly left the stall and walked back outside to mingle.  _Bloody hell._   What a turn of events.

Harry noticed how long Louis’d been gone but didn’t comment on it, just asked him to find Zayn again because it was getting late and he and Liam were ready to leave.

 

* * *

 

Happy to be back at Harry’s and Louis’ place after such a long night, everyone entered the lounge around the same time, Louis and Zayn following slowly in the back.

“What’s all this, then?” Harry asked in mild surprise after realizing nothing looked as it should.  He had switched on the lights but it was still basically dark, and he looked around at everything the best he could, took it all in—the black sheets everywhere and glitter thrown on the floor, scarves draped over all the lamps for dimness—and smirked.

Louis hadn’t spoken the entire trip home, and in the separate vehicle that Liam and Zayn had arrived in, Zayn hadn’t said a word, either.  Louis and Zayn looked at each other and were reluctant to explain to their boyfriends what was going on.

“Er…nothing,” Louis finally answered under Harry’s persistent eyes.

Liam walked forward and looked around the room, as well.   “You popped by here earlier, didn’t you, Zayn?”  When Zayn nodded, Liam continued, “Then…you know what this is, don’t you?”

“We were going to…” Zayn’s sentence broke off, ending with a shrug.

Harry looked to Louis, eyes curious and intrigued enough that they twinkled a bit, so Louis gained a morsel of confidence and spoke up.

“Strip for you. We were going to strip for you,” Louis finished.  “Kind of a little lap-dance thing...?”

“Oh? So this is the big _surprise_ you were talking about, yeah?” Harry asked.  “Well, well….What’s stopping you, then?”

Louis looked to the floor.  “I’m…I’m already in trouble, aren’t I?  And I…don’t want to get in more trouble for doing it…and… Just forget about all this, really, you really should just give me my spanking, and I really don’t think—“

Harry held up a hand for Louis to stop rambling, eyebrows lifted with the astonishment of Louis telling Harry what he should do.  “You’ve clearly forgotten that I make the decisions.  I can decide whether you get spanked, _when_ you should get spanked…”  Then he slowly smiled.  “So stop worrying about that and give me my _surprise_.”

Louis wanted to explain to Harry somehow that _Zayn_ couldn’t do it, and if _Zayn_ couldn’t do it, then it wouldn’t _work_.  He didn’t want to do it by himself, didn’t think he _could_.  “I—”

“This is what you’ve been _practicing_ , Lou,” Harry said cockily, catching on to the fact that Louis was trying to back out.  He turned in a circle to look around the room.  “So where do I sit for this, hm?”

Louis groaned. “I don’t…know…”

Zayn walked next to Louis then, head hung low.  He sighed.  “I’ll switch on the music.”

Louis’ eyes widened.  “You’re doing it?”

Zayn closed his eyes and nodded tightly.  He was on edge, yes, but part of him really, _really_ wanted to strip for Liam still.  He wanted show off his body, and more importantly, he wanted to show that he could still be good and _look_ good for Liam while wearing the cock cage like he was supposed to.

Harry stepped closer to Louis and put an arm around him.  “Hours ago, you were quite excited for this.  Why the sudden change?”

“I’m just,” Louis panicked, “I’m just confused.  You said you were gonna spank me, and it’s all I’ve thought about all night—and you _know_ that—and now _this_ —“ Louis motioned to the room with a sweeping of his hands “—is—I don’t know, I can’t do it, it’s too much stuff I have to think about, and you’re just going to get mad at me for doing it anyway because I’ll be teasing you _more_ —”

Harry turned Louis around to look directly at him.  “Listen, Louis, if I’m telling you I want you do to this, then I’m not going to punish you for it.  Stop thinking so much.”  Harry thought carefully about his next words.  “I will not punish you for stripping for me.”

Louis looked to the side.  “You should, though…”

Harry’s eyebrows lifted high with unvoiced incredulity at Louis _telling Harry what he should do again._ “Stop telling me what I should and shouldn’t do,” he said sternly.  “I make the decisions.”

Louis frowned at himself.  “Sorry.”

“I want you to show me what you’ve been practicing for me,” Harry said, then smiled slowly.  “You said I’d like it very much, hm?”  That finally got a smile out of Louis, so Harry asked again, “Now, where shall I sit?”

“Er…” Louis shrugged, and Harry was reminded of the cutest fact about Louis: he was horrible at making decisions when Harry was around.  Which is why Harry eased his mind by making the decisions for him all the time.

Harry pointed to the sofa.  “Here?”

Louis nodded, wringing his hands together.  “Erm.”

Harry raised his eyebrows before sitting down.

“It’s just…there are supposed to be rules.”

“Rules?  For me?” Harry pointed to himself and chuckled.

“For you and Liam, I guess,” Louis agreed quietly.  He looked at Harry seductively yet almost shyly, and he continued, “I’ve…you’re just supposed to sit and watch.  And not touch or anything.”

Harry truthfully didn’t know why he was even allowing this to happen—to let Louis talk to him like that.  Louis giving _Harry_ rules was unheard of, but Harry went along with it because _later_ , he was definitely going to remind Louis who really had the power in their relationship.  And plus, it was amusing to Harry to watch Louis try to act like he was the one in control.

Harry smugly grinned.  “Oh, I’m just supposed to sit and watch, am I?”

“Mmhm.”  Louis simpered, finally back to his cheeky self, making sure Harry noticed when he bit his bottom lip in his mouth.

Harry cockily stuck his tongue in his cheek as he smirked.  _Biting his fucking lip for the second time in one night, that little fucking tease_.  Harry’s eyes glinted at Louis as he fell back into the sofa and gave the smaller boy a look like, _yeah, I’m allowing this right now, but just wait ‘til later._

Louis noticed that Liam had already sat on a recliner next to the sofa Harry was situating himself on, and Zayn was in front of Liam, turning the music on low.  Louis and Zayn looked to one another again and smiled softly, and then, just as they had talked about, kept their backs to their boyfriends as they took off their suit jackets to the low, slow bass of the song playing.

It was dark, their bodies shadowy silhouettes in the dimness of the room.  They turned around slowly, and as Zayn began undoing his tie, Louis softly pushed his braces off his shoulders, deliberately running his fingertips along his arms as he slid the material down while swaying to the music playing behind him.

He took a deep breath as his fingers went to his own tie, then, loosening it before taking it off and throwing it at Harry.  Then he looked down at his dress shirt and began unbuttoning it slowly, still dancing, still touching himself as much as he could.  He found he couldn’t really _look_ at Harry while doing this, but as he let his button-up shirt fall to the floor, he hoped Harry was enjoying it.

And Harry already was.

Resting his entwined fingers on the back of his head, Harry lounged with his legs spread widely apart in dominance as he continued to watch Louis run his hands up and down his arms, his chest, even tilting his head to the side to slowly run his fingers along the side of his neck.  Harry’s dick twitched already.  He wanted to reach out and touch Louis, and he wasn’t used to having to wait.

Beside Louis, Zayn was shedding his clothes, as well, except he was doing it in a much more demure fashion than he and Louis had practiced, making Louis shy as well.  Louis, deciding that having choreographed moves was stupid anyway, stopped looking at what Zayn was doing and just focused on the music, on making this good for Harry. 

The songs Zayn had chosen made it easy for Louis to get lost inside of, and something Harry recognized by The Weeknd started up as Louis finally moved his hands to the bottom of his shirt and began acting like he was going to shed it.  He was leisurely, like he had all night to do this.

Louis finally crossed his arms across his stomach and lifted his undershirt over his head, carelessly dropping it to the floor before looking down at his bare torso.  He touched himself slowly from his chest to his nipples to his stomach, then looked up at Harry as his fingers found the button of his trousers.  He made sure Harry saw him bite his lip as he unbuckled his trousers and began to saunter closer to the sofa, letting them fall while he walked nearer and nearer to Harry until he stood in between Harry’s legs.

The self-control Harry had was definitely evident, because Harry wanted nothing more than to push Louis on the couch right at that instant and snog him senseless while ripping off the rest of his clothes.

Louis stepped out of his trousers slowly and looked down at Harry while just in his briefs, then turned around to let Harry look at his arse.  Slowly, he bent down in front of Harry and touched the floor with his hands, barely even bending his knees as he kept his arse high in the air for Harry, and he tried to keep shimmying his hips to the slow beat of the song as he stood fully up again and reached forward for Harry’s tie.

As Louis pulled at Harry’s tie, Harry realized he was being predatory, was aware of it as his eyes tracked and followed every single movement that Louis made, and that was okay.  Louis was his.  Louis was doing this for Harry.

Louis straddled Harry then, and for the sake of playing along, Harry kept his hands firmly on the sofa as he watched Louis arch his back so his nipples were eye-level with Harry.  Louis even touched them for a while, rolled them slowly in between his thumbs and forefingers for Harry, and the delicate little sounds Louis made while doing so made Harry involuntarily buck his hips up.

Harry licked his lips but somehow refrained from reaching forward with his tongue to taste Louis’ nipples, and in the next instant, Louis squeezed his thighs tightly against Harry’s legs as he leaned all the way backwards, his back and head falling to the floor in between Harry’s splayed-out legs.  Louis’ abs flexed as he kept himself in that position, just showing off his clothed package to Harry, displaying how hard he was underneath his pants, how curvy and strong his body was.

When he lifted himself up again, Louis ran his hands all along his stomach and chest again before lifting his legs and turning around on Harry’s lap.  His arse was now pressed snugly against Harry’s cock, and he circled it around a few times to feel Harry’s hardness, taking care to make his backside look as big and attractive as possible while doing so.

Louis opened his legs widely to match Harry’s and tucked his feet behind Harry’s calves.  Putting his hands on Harry’s knees, he leaned forward again, this time to show off his arse, the lines of his back and curve of his spine, his thighs a bit.  He made a show of pushing himself up again, making sure to go slow, but eventually Harry became impatient and gripped Louis’ hips to pull him firmly onto his lap again.

Louis felt Harry’s cock throb in between his arse cheeks and moaned.  He leaned back onto Harry and rested the back of his head on Harry’s shoulder, arching his back lithely before turning his head to pant into Harry’s ear. 

Harry squeezed hard at Louis’ thighs.  “Giving Daddy a show, then?”

Louis’ hands moved on top of Harry’s hands traveling up and down his legs.  “Mmm…but you’re not supposed to touch, Daddy.”

“I can do whatever the hell I want,” Harry retorted in a harsh whisper, pulling Louis’ hips in more firmly and thrusting his own upwards so Louis could _really_ feel the hard press of his cock in between his arse cheeks.  The curves of their bodies lined up perfectly, Harry’s lap the perfect seat for Louis, Louis’ back matched perfectly against Harry’s chest.  Louis turned his head to the other side, baring it for Harry while moving slowly on top of him.  Harry latched on with his mouth and sucked and bit and licked and kissed until Louis’ noises were louder than the music, until Louis lifted a hand high to the side of Harry’s head, pushed down, locked his mouth in place.

Harry snaked a hand to the front of Louis’ pants and walked a few fingers up the length of Louis’ clothed cock.  When he felt Louis’ cockhead towards the left of his pants, he brushed it with his thumb, gently at first and then harder to match the strength he was sucking Louis’ neck at.

“You’re going to do this again for me,” Harry whispered, latching his teeth onto Louis’ earlobe, “all dressed up next time.”

Louis was lost in the music, in the feel of rolling his hips around on Harry, grinding back to match every one of Harry’s thrusts upwards.  He felt himself twitch in his pants as he imagined himself wearing _panties_ while doing this and breathlessly asked, “You want me to?”

“God, yes.”  Harry’s hands moved to the elastic of Louis’ underwear and tugged roughly at the material until it was down to Louis’ mid-thigh.  “So hard for Daddy, aren’t you,” Harry murmured, wasting not a second and wrapping his hand entirely around Louis’ cock.

“But Daddy,” Louis panted, over-excited already at remembering what he and Zayn were planning to do next, “you’re really not supposed to touch yet, I—”

“Oh, no more rules for me, Louis, you’re done,” Harry said, moving his hand from Louis’ cock to hold onto his sides and push him onto his back on the sofa. 

Louis’ body flopped down effortlessly, and Harry was pleased to see red circles littering the side of his neck.  He stood up from the sofa then and looked down at Louis.  “I’m going upstairs for a moment.  Wait here.”

Louis’ mouth dropped in shock, and he momentarily looked at Zayn.  He was now completely naked straddling Liam, and Liam had his hand on top of his cock so that you couldn’t see anything.  He and Zayn had talked about fingering themselves open in front of Liam and Harry, but Louis wasn’t sure if that would even be happening now.  “But—we had other stuff we were—”

Harry took one look at Liam and Zayn, and, noticing they were lost in their own moment, turned back to Louis.  Making sure all of Louis’ focus was on him, he crouched down to be eye-level with Louis.  “Stop looking at Zayn.  Stop worrying about Zayn.  And don’t talk back to your Daddy.  Now lie back, put your hands under your bum so you don’t touch anything, and wait for me to return.”

Louis nodded. “Okay, Daddy.”

Louis couldn’t help but watch Liam and Zayn while Harry was gone, even though he knew he was disobeying.  Zayn just looked so pretty on top of Liam, and they looked so _hot_ together kissing, moving their hips together like they were almost having sex.  Except Louis of course knew what Zayn was wearing on his cock, and Liam was still wearing his entire suit.  Louis did keep his hands under himself, though, so he wouldn’t touch like Daddy had asked.

When Louis’ favorite person in the world returned, he had a handful of items that he placed on the floor by the sofa.  What he kept in his hands, however, was a long and broad wooden paddle, and as he slowly sat down on the edge of the sofa, he held it in a fashion so that Louis could clearly see.

He looked at Louis and was happy to see him staying completely still.  “Come over here.”

“Daddy…”

Harry knew the others couldn’t hear over the music, and he deeply hoped that Louis was comfortable still calling Harry “Daddy” around them when they _could_ actually hear, because _fuck_.  Even though Louis was looking hesitant and not following orders immediately, he was being perfect.  Anything that came from his lips was pure perfection.

“Louis.  Lay across my lap now.”

“But I thought you said—“

“I know what I said, Louis, and I suggest you listen to me and come lay yourself across my lap.”

Louis nodded silently and crawled along the cushions until he lifted himself up and laid atop Harry’s legs, arse facing up.  Next, Harry shuffled both of them so that they were more in the middle of the sofa, then Harry dragged the paddle along the backs of Louis’ legs.

“Daddy’s going to spank you now.  Many, many times.  With this.”

He waited a few moments for Louis to say something, but Louis was silent.

“Now listen closely,” Harry instructed, making sure Louis’ eyes were on him.  “It will not be punishment for what you just did because I gave you permission for that.  Do you understand?”

Louis nodded.

“I am spanking you to remind you of who has the control in this relationship.  It appears that you’ve forgotten that lately.  So I’m going to give you a reminder you’ll remember.”  Harry swiftly brought down the paddle against Louis’ arse without warning.  “Who has the power, Louis?”

Louis squeezed his eyes shut after a tiny noise left his mouth.  “You do, Daddy.”

Harry smiled at Louis.  “Yes, I do.  You’re good at teasing me, baby, but you like it best like this, don’t you?  With Daddy in charge?”

Louis was lost in the deepness of Harry’s voice.  With his eyes closed, he moved his hands to grip blindly ahead at the end of the couch cushion.  It wasn’t until he felt another sharp sting on his arse that he was reminded to answer, and he gasped, “Yes, Daddy.  You’re in charge.”

Harry struck him again then, and he found himself folding his body more into Harry’s warmth the more he was spanked.  Each hit made his body shine, burned his arse, and expanded his longing to make Harry happy.   Louis entered a world of only Harry, and nothing else mattered.  Harry spanked him loudly, and _Louis_ was loud, and Harry put a hand on the small of Louis’ back to keep him still, and Louis’ hands moved to grip at Harry’s legs and side so he wouldn’t fall.

“ _Ahhh_ ,” Louis cried out desperately after the last, hard spank, then turned it more into a sound of relief.  “Ahhh….”

“This is how tonight’s going to work,” Harry said lightly, discarding the paddle and massaging Louis’ sore cheeks.  “I give you an order; you follow it right away.  You like doing that.”

“I do, I do,” Louis found himself agreeing immediately, nodding his head.

Harry feathered his hands through Louis’ hair.  “Tell me why you like it.”

Louis hummed with the contentment of having his hair played with.  “It pleases you.”

Harry beamed on the inside.  He leaned down the best that he could with Louis still in his lap and kissed Louis’ puffy arse cheeks.  They were radiating heat, red from being hit with wood, and his arse looked so, so lovely.  “Gonna get you open now,” Harry told Louis, wiggling on the sofa to dig into his pocket, “but you know you’re not to come.  This is for Daddy, not you, so he can fit inside your tight, little hole, yeah?”

Louis thought the pre-cum oozing from his dick would definitely be staining Harry’s trousers.  “Yeah,” he moaned just at the thought of his Daddy using his arse.  He wanted it now.

Louis tried not to focus on how good Harry’s wet fingers felt as they moved in and out of his hole, and he was doing an almost-good job until Harry began moving them around in circles inside his arse, coaxing his entrance open by stretching it.  It made Louis think about how huge Harry’s cock was, and he could even still feel it under his lap, stiff and persistent, and he started fantasizing of Harry’s cock going inside.  He fantasized about that burn he always felt, even after all this time with Harry, about how _full_ Harry made him feel, how ridiculously, _amazingly_ satisfied…

Louis wiggled in Harry’s lap and gripped hard at the pillows by his head.  Harry gradually slid his fingers out, making Louis’ eyes open.

“Did I do something wrong, Daddy?  Are you mad?”

“No, baby,” Harry said, patting Louis’ behind.  “You’ve made me very, very happy.  But I just don’t want you to come, and you were about to, weren’t you?”

Louis’ exerted breaths changed his voice.  “I don’t know, Daddy, I was thinking of you fucking me and—“

“Sit back on my lap, love,” Harry interrupted.  Louis shifted and straddled Harry again happily, lowering his nose to smell at Harry’s sweet-smelling neck.  Harry pushed him back a bit.  “Baby,” he said slowly, looking right into Louis’ eyes, “do you want to call me Daddy in front of the boys?”

Louis looked to Zayn and Liam and clutched onto Harry’s dress shirt.  He shrugged.

“You can if you want to,” Harry persisted with a nice smile.  “I don’t think they’d mind, yeah?  If you wanted to.”

“Okay,” Louis agreed quietly.  He thought he would like that quite a lot.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…”

Harry smiled and then moved Louis again so that he could stand up.  Louis was a ragdoll, and he was happy to go wherever Harry wanted him to.  He sat on the sofa obediently as Harry bent down and went through a few items on the floor he’d brought down from upstairs.  He sat down beside Louis with a cock ring in between his thumb and index finger, and he held it in front of Louis’ face.

“You’re going to—?”

Harry nodded at Louis’ unfinished question.  “Why might I put this on you, baby?”

Louis stared at the little object and frowned.  He hadn’t thought he was being punished.  “I—I don’t know.”

“Because I’m in control,” Harry answered, moving it around in his fingers, “remember?”

Louis tightly nodded.  _Control_ , not punishment.  _Control_.

Harry was proud that Louis didn’t truly complain as Harry rolled the ring onto his dick, only whimpered a little once it was completely at the base, properly restricting blood flow.

“I think now’s the time for it, Liam,” Harry lifted his head and said.  Liam looked to Harry and nodded imperceptibly before tapping Zayn’s leg so he would get off his lap.

“Lay on the floor,” Liam said, rising from the chair, big and brawny in his suit and tie.

“Time for what?” Louis asked in a daze.

“Get over on the floor by Zayn, love,” Harry gave as an answer.

Louis nodded eagerly.  This was it.  It was happening.  The double-dildo.

Zayn and Louis sat on the floor close to one another, and Harry and Liam were sat nearby, as well.

“How do I…?” Louis looked to Harry.

Harry motioned to the other naked boy.  “Ask Zayn.”

Louis tripped over his words as he looked at Zayn.  “How are we—erm, how do you wanna do this, Zayn?”

Zayn shrugged bashfully.  “I dunno…I’ve never—I dunno.”  His eyes lifted to Liam, and Liam gently smiled as he crouched beside Zayn.  Zayn was sat with his knees together and bent to the side, hiding himself as he sought direction from his boyfriend.

“You can both be on your hands and knees, or you can be on your backs,” Harry said from beside Louis.

“Your choice,” Liam added to Zayn in a whisper.  He reached down with a firm hand and pushed at one of Zayn’s knees, coaxing it open.  Zayn let Liam guide his leg open until his genitals were no longer hidden, and Zayn closed his eyes and took a deep breath before seeking out Louis’ eyes.

Both Louis and Zayn looked a little nervous.  They hadn’t actually spoken face-to-face about this, just to their respective partners.  And both of them didn’t have controlling devices stuck on their cocks in their personal fantasies, either.  “Er,” Zayn began, “I’d like – maybe my back, I think, but—“

“Me, too,” Louis interrupted.

Harry nodded his head and put a hand on Louis’ shoulder, slightly applying pressure there.  “Then lay back, love.”

Louis sighed.  “Okay.”

Liam similarly helped Zayn lay on his back until he was comfortable.  He kissed Zayn’s face and whispered in his ear, “Bet this wasn’t what you had in mind when you told me you wanted this, hm?”

Zayn’s face was permanently screwed up with both arousal at Liam’s taunts and with the pain he felt at trying to get hard but being unable to.  He looked down at what he could see of himself.  His cock looked ridiculously small in the cage, and just for a moment, he pined to be Louis.   _His_ dick was long and hard and almost purple while he wore the cock-ring and, most importantly, it was still _somewhat_ free.  At least Louis could touch it if he wanted to.  All Zayn could feel on his penis was plastic.

But _that_ train of thought just got him thinking of what he had done to earn being caged up for Liam in the first place, and the tugging, painful sensation down below just intensified.   _Liam_ controlled his cock.  He was all locked up and forced to be good because of _Liam_.  _For_ Liam.

Zayn tore his eyes off of Louis to look back at Liam who was now darkly staring down at him, and Zayn took all of his wishes back.  He didn’t need to be like Louis.  He deserved to be caged for this because he had been bad, and now everyone in the room _knew_ he had been bad…everyone was watching him be locked up and seeing how he took it so well.  And that made him happy.

“You ready?” Liam asked.  He looked down at Zayn’s skinny, tight body, at the small muscles and bones clenching and unclenching in anticipation.  Zayn’s cock was noticeably hurting inside the cage, swollen and painful-looking, everything deep red.  His balls were bigger than his dick by this point, and Liam reached forward to cradle them in the palm of one hand just for the noise that came from Zayn.

“Scoot up, baby,” Harry told Louis from the other side of Liam, and Louis instantly obeyed.  “Get closer to Zayn.”

It was only as Louis was inching closer to Zayn that Harry noticed the device Zayn was wearing, and he questioningly looked to Liam.

“He knows what he’s done,” Liam settled with, and Harry gave a little nod before focusing back on Louis.

Zayn’s and Louis’ legs were mirrored as they positioned themselves in front of one another, both knees bent and with their feet planted firmly on the floor.  Zayn’s legs rested on top of Louis’ knees since they were longer, and he dragged his calves along Louis’ thighs.  “Your legs are smooth,” he noticed quietly.

Louis had still maintained shaving his legs and pubic area for Harry, and he stared up at him as he replied.  “Thanks.”

It was then that Liam shifted a bit to finally get the dildo, and both Zayn and Louis stared at it as Liam presented it from somewhere behind him.  He made sure to slowly lower it in between the boys’ pelvises to build anticipation, and it did.  Louis’ toes wiggled against the glittery, black sheet underneath him, feet tickling Zayn’s sides, and he and Zayn both rested on their elbows to lift their upper bodies higher up to watch the toy.

Harry watched Louis’ face grow from nervous to excited in just a few seconds.  “All right, baby?”

Louis nodded eagerly.  “Yeah.”

“You can prop yourself up with your hands or stay on your elbows like you’re doing now—whichever is more comfortable,” Harry instructed lowly.  “But if your hands move at all to touch yourself, then you get the paddle again.  Understood?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Louis answered in a strained voice.  He’d just said it…and Liam and Zayn hadn’t even reacted.  Louis swallowed.

“I’ll be right here the whole time,” Harry continued.  “Right beside you.  Watching.”

Liam got Harry’s attention and motioned to the toy.  “Go on,” he said, then bent down low to whisper in Zayn’s ear.  Liam had already lubricated the dildo, and Harry was positive that Louis was pliant and open enough to take it, so Harry held onto the middle of the toy and avoided touching Zayn as he pushed just the tip of it inside Louis.

Louis’ eyes grew large, but besides his heavy breathing, he was relatively quiet.

“Come on, baby, scoot closer,” Liam told Zayn, letting go of his balls to hold the middle of the toy with his thumb and forefinger.  “Your turn.”

Everybody watched as Zayn impaled himself on the dildo and glided his way down an inch or two.  Liam let go then and sat back on his haunches beside Zayn, staring along with Harry at how fucking sexy their boyfriends looked connected by this long toy.  Liam’s voice turned gruff.  “Now push forward until your arses touch.”

Louis lifted himself up onto his hands and pushed his hips forward as much as he could until he simultaneously felt the toy poke at a very sensitive spot deep inside him _and_ felt the naughty sensation of Zayn’s arse touching his, Zayn’s balls touching his.

“Oh, _shiiiit_ ,” Zayn said in one long breath.

“F-fuck,” Louis moaned, each little indistinct shudder from his hips making the toy stick his prostate.

“You can move any way you’d like,” Harry told Louis in his ear.  He was _so close_ , like he was the one controlling Louis doing this even though it was _Louis_ doing it, and it made no sense except that it did.

Louis backed himself up slowly, whispered, “ _Daddy_ ,” and then propelled his hips forward again, not rushing anything just yet, only making himself feel good and look good for his Daddy, and he hoped he did look good.  He looked down at his tummy and saw how much glitter was covering himself, and he hoped Harry thought it was pretty.  Those were his only thoughts as he mechanically moved his arse back and forth—he hoped the way his muscles were straining looked good for Harry, his _Daddy_ , hoped his skin and his cock looked good for him, hoped everything was pleasing Daddy just as much as it was pleasing him just being on _show_ for his Daddy.

Soon, the entire room filled with the moans and frenzied panting of the two boys as they worked themselves closer and closer to a hopeful climax.  Louis’ cock was tight and it hurt, but his arse was full of the huge toy, and everything was causing conflicting sensations.  Normally, he could never come with the ring squeezing his cock, but he would try his hardest for Daddy.

Louis and Zayn moaned nonstop, moaned out of pleasure, moaned out of desire for Harry and Liam, moaned out of the agony of not being able to touch them, of not really getting what they needed now, which was cock.  Always Harry’s and Liam’s cocks.

Sharing the toy with Zayn felt so good, but it still wasn’t satisfying Louis in the way he liked.  He grunted as he struggled to get himself off.  His movements projected the toy further up into Zayn, however, and Zayn received the jab, moaned loudly, and moved his hips to do the same to Louis.  It went like that repeatedly until the boys finally matched frantic rhythms and locked their legs together while sloppily sliding themselves along the dildo.

Harry reached forward and wrapped his forefinger and thumb around in the base of Louis’ cock in a tight circle, pressing firmly there _over_ the ring until Louis’ hips stuttered.

“ _Ah_ -“

Zayn was still moving, however, and it felt like the toy was going to slide out of Louis, so he had to move again, as well.  As Harry squeezed ever tighter on Louis’ cock, it resonated with Louis that Harry didn’t intend on letting Louis come like this, and he stopped moving his hips again.  “What—?”

Harry just stared at Louis.  “Keep moving.”

Louis whined but did as he was told, and Zayn chanted a steady curse of “ _fuck, fuck, fuck_.”  Liam leaned forward to painfully bite down and suck on Zayn’s stomach, and the muscles under his mouth flexed with every one of Zayn’s movements.  Zayn was sweating, and he began making strange grunts like he was dying.

“ _Fuuuuuck_ ,” he wailed, feeling clogged up with cum and on edge, _too_ on edge.

Something was happening to him.  Louis hadn’t looked at Zayn’s face too much, staring down at his wet hole instead, but once he looked up, he saw an expression on Zayn’s face that he’d never seen in all their prior experiences.  Zayn’s eyes almost looked like he did when he and Louis smoked weed together, except he didn’t have the dopey grin that indicated he was high.  He still _looked_ high though, with glossy, unfocused eyes and the most spaced-out look on his face Louis had ever seen.

“ _Can’t_ ,” Zayn choked out, fingers trying to find Liam’s hair to touch and then just falling back to the floor.  He wanted to show Liam he could take it, he wanted to, but he had to come.  He had to come.  “Liam, _please_ , _off_ , it hurts…”

“You like it when it hurts a little, don’t you?” Liam asked lightly, tracing up the dark trail of hair from Zayn’s pubic bone to his belly button with his tongue.  But still, Liam moved to take out his wallet from his back pocket, removing the key with swiftness and mercifully unlocking Zayn’s cage once his hips had stopped moving.

Zayn just moaned loudly in relief, and he completely fell back onto the carpet once Liam at last took the device off.

“Sit up,” Liam instructed.  Zayn groaned but still listened, and he pushed his upper body up with his hands and resumed moving against Louis exhaustedly.

Zayn stared at his own cock, finally freed it of its constraints yet still not hard, and not even a minute later, Zayn’s mouth widened hugely as his own orgasm crashed over him without real warning.

He was _loud_.  He moaned continuously as pleasure assaulted his cock and thick globs of liquid spurted out each time it throbbed, and Louis thought it was the oddest and hottest thing ever to see Zayn coming so much out of such a soft cock.

“Oh, _oh, ohh_ ,” Zayn kept moaning, surprised by his pleasure.  He finally collapsed onto his back once the tide spilled over and receded, leaving nothing but a sensitive tingling afterward.

Louis was still rolling himself erratically on the toy, now putting his whole body into his movements—undulating his stomach, arching his back, pivoting his hips at an angle he prayed would just give him what he needed—

It was making Zayn’s arse sensitive.  He’d had the most overwhelming orgasm of his life, he was sure, and now he wanted a break. He sat up a bit and backed his hips up until Liam reached out and stopped him.  “ _Liam_ ,” Zayn whined.

“Shh, want you to come again like I know you can,” Liam said gently.  “It’ll feel good in a minute, baby, just relax.  Lay back down.”

Zayn grimaced and listened to Liam, then began listening to Louis’ sounds.  Louis was desperate.  Harry let go of Louis’ cock and moved to the area behind him, propping him up a bit because of how tired he looked, and Zayn moved his legs restlessly.

“Oh, oh, _ohh_ ,” Louis moaned, still moving hard against the toy.  He grew tired of holding up his body weight with just his arms, so he leaned backwards into Harry’s hold properly, letting Harry hold his body weight.  The sweat covering every inch of his skin made it hard to get the friction he wanted, and he was starting to think he’d _never_ come.

“ _Daddy_ ,” Louis begged roughly, “I—can’t—get—myself—off—ugghnn—like this…Please, please, Daddy, _please_ take this off, fuck my arse, please give me your cock, _please_.  I’m begging you.  I’m begging so nicely—”

“If you _tease_ Daddy’s cock, you don’t _get_ Daddy’s cock,” Harry whispered.  He made it sound sweet.  “Look, Louis,” he said next.  Harry wiped the hair out of Louis’ face, still watching him intently try to get himself off.  _Shit_ …so, so hot.  “Look at Zayn, baby.  You’re making him _hard_.  Think he’s gonna come again?”

“Unnh,” Louis moaned, throwing his head back onto Harry.  He moved himself harder and faster against the plastic toy, fatigued by now and dismayed at the realization that he’d never be able to make himself come like this.   He needed his Daddy to do it for him.  “ _I_ wanna come, Daddy.”

“Know you do, baby,” Harry said gently, massaging Louis’ shoulders a little.  He could tell from Louis’ facial expression that he wouldn’t be able to.  Not unless Harry took the ring off, put a hand on his cock, _something_.

“Oh, _Daddy_ ,” Louis moaned, “please touch me, oh _God_ , I’m gonna die if you don’t…take it _off_ ….”

“Shh,” Harry said simply, kissing Louis’ sweaty neck.  “Keep moving, baby, look so good when you move like that.”

Zayn came again a few seconds later, hips bucking and lips shuddering out Liam’s name.  Louis stared incredulously at Zayn’s tight little body clenching as his cum squirted out into the air before falling and landing on his lower stomach, right on top of his previous load, and Louis moaned at how sexy all of it was.

“Need to come, Daddy,” Louis whispered sadly, hips now still but legs still trembling against Zayn’s.

Liam ran his hands up and down Zayn’s body throughout his entire release, spreading around his cum and whispering things that no one could hear, and Louis looked on, jealous and sad.  Zayn rolled his hips slower and slower until quivering and finally backing away from the dildo entirely, and Louis’ face was heavy and unsatisfied as he felt the other end of the toy fall to the floor.

Harry moved and made sure Louis fell back against the floor delicately.   Not caring that Zayn’s arse had just been on the other end, he grabbed the other end of the dildo and forcefully shoved it inside Louis.

“Oh!” Louis squeaked, back arching off the carpet.  “God, yes, _finally_ , please…Fuck, oh, fuck me.”

“Stop begging,” Harry ordered, but really was thinking _beg for it, fucking beg for it_.  “I’ll make you come when I want you to come.”

Harry had finally found a rhythm frantic enough to almost make Louis come absolutely undone, cock-ring or not, but just as Louis’ eyes rolled into the back of his head, Harry pulled the dildo out of his arse completely.

Louis made a garbled string of animalistic noises then, his arms and legs almost flailing as he struggled to understand the loss of contact—the horrible, aching _emptiness_ inside him.  He immediately dropped a hand between his legs and stuck three of his fingers inside him at once without thinking, just to fill him back up.  He had pumped them inside himself just twice, hips still moving because he was so close—so close—

“ _No_ , absolutely not,” Harry firmly chastised as he held onto Louis’ wrist.  He pulled Louis’ hand out of the crevice of his legs and roughly tried to roll him over onto the glittery floor.

“ _Daddy_ ,” Louis whined.  He could only think about how close he’d just been, even with the ring on.  He was desperate.  He had to make his Daddy _understand_.

“Get on your hands and knees.” 

Louis didn’t listen, just whined more as his hips canted up in the air, and Harry became demanding. 

“Get on your hands and knees right this instant and watch Liam and Zayn.”

Zayn was on his back, still close to where he had been when he and Louis were sharing the dildo, but now Liam had taken off his clothes and lifted up Zayn’s legs and penetrate him.  The couple was positioned so that Harry and Louis could clearly see everything.  Liam was moving slowly, biting Zayn’s calf and just barely dragging himself in and out of Zayn, and Louis just watched, wanting to cry.

Louis looked on, and his body shook harder.  “ _Please_ …”

Harry snapped his fingers.  “Do you need help, Louis?”

“No,” Louis quickly shook his head, moving quickly to assume the position he was told.  Harry immediately lifted the paddle and struck him for touching himself, and Louis’ head dropped to the floor.

“I said to watch Liam and Zayn,” Harry ordered, spanking Louis once more.

“Ah!” Louis moaned, knowing he needed the spanking.  He _wanted_ to do what Harry told him to; his body was just disagreeing with him.  Harry was in control.  Harry controlled Louis, controlled his body and most importantly his cock, and if Harry wanted Louis to wear the cock ring, if Harry didn’t want him to come yet, if Harry wanted Louis to watch Liam and Zayn, then that was all Louis cared about.

“You don’t complain,” Harry stated as he lifted the paddle and it landed on Louis’ bottom with a _pop_.

“You don’t worry about Zayn,” he continued, lifting the paddle up and striking Louis right in the middle of his sit-spot.  It was already red, and now the shade was darkening to something explicit, and Harry loved it.

“You don’t ask me to make you come _because I will make you come when I want to_ ,” he said before another brutal spank.  “Or not at all.”

Louis’ face was hot and sweaty as he continued to watch Liam’s long cock glide in and out of Zayn’s raised arse, and Louis focused on Harry’s words.  He thought he was saying “Yes, Daddy,” every time Harry told him something, just like a good boy, but he wasn’t sure if Harry could hear him.

Harry spanked Louis again and again as he lectured him.  “You listen to me.  You listen immediately when I tell you to do something.  You don’t complain.”

“Okay, Daddy, okay, okay, I won’t,” Louis gasped out.  With each smack of the paddle, he gave any bit of control he had left inside of him to Harry, and Harry felt it.  He felt it and saw it in the way Louis’ body slumped, heard it in the beautiful, resigned tone of his voice.  “I won’t, I won’t!”

When Harry was finished, Louis didn’t move.  Though the pain had taken over his senses, he continued to watch straight ahead of him just like he was told, and he didn’t realize that Harry was taking his clothes off until he was directly in front of Louis’ face, masturbating.

Harry’s hand moved almost furiously, and Louis couldn’t help but turn his attention to that, to Harry’s cock and balls, at how beautiful he was.  Oh, how he _adored_ this man in front of him.

“Get closer to Zayn.  Walk yourself over right beside him.”

Louis was floating high with the ability to make Harry happy by doing what he asked, and his hands and knees began moving before Harry was done with his instruction.  “’kay, Daddy.”

Louis stopped when he was directly beside Zayn’s body.  Zayn, eyes shining and body being jolted with the force of Liam’s drives, reached out for Louis, but Louis just looked at him.  Harry hadn’t said he could do anything else.

Harry walked to the other side of Zayn and sat on his shins.  “Suck Zayn’s cock,” he ordered.

Louis nodded and looked at Zayn’s privates.  Liam was _right there_ , literally _fucking_ Zayn, and Louis was sure he would be able to feel Liam’s stomach or something if he were really to have Zayn’s cock in his mouth—

“Problem?”

“No, Daddy,” Louis immediately replied, scrambling to obey despite his body screaming at him to come with every movement it made.

He perched himself over Zayn’s propped-up stomach, and he grimaced at the feel of his hard dick touching Zayn’s side. 

Louis looked up at Liam for a moment, at his face completely overtaken with desire, then down to Zayn, and Louis just _knew_ how Zayn must be feeling right now—over-sensitized to the point where the pleasure and pain were mixing with each other so indistinguishably that it only served to confuse your body and keep it alert, keep it coming again and again and again—and fuck, he looked really, really beautiful right now.  Everything looked so beautiful.

Louis looked up at Harry, then, one last look before lowering his mouth, and Harry put his free hand in Louis’ hair.  Praising him for doing as he was told.  Always taking care of him.

Harry inched his knees forward and stroked his cock directly in front of Louis’ face.  He dropped the hand in Louis’ hair to his chin.  Louis would be able to reach out his tongue and touch Harry’s cockhead if only he was told he could.  “Keep being my good boy, baby.  Good boys get to come, yeah?”

Louis nodded shakily, breathed in deeply, and leaned down, easily putting all of Zayn inside his mouth and swishing his tongue around.  Zayn’s dick was salty and warm from his earlier orgasms, and Louis tried his best to get him hard again.  With fervor, he moved his head up and down, and though it meant feeling Liam’s pubic hair rhythmically touch him, he even reached forward and cradled Zayn’s balls while sucking.  Zayn pulled at Louis’ hair, and that only fueled Louis, turned his mouth feral.

“ _Liam_ ,” Zayn whispered.  He dropped his hand from Louis’ head with an audible thud on the ground and became truly boneless.

Liam kissed Zayn’s ankle before spreading his legs open wider and increasing the pace of his thrusting.  Louis felt sweat from Liam’s body drip onto his face, and everything was sweaty, everybody was sweating and moaning and panting and feeling so, so good.

“You want that, don’t you?” Harry asked Louis, taunting him but making it sound sweet.  “Want me to fuck you like that, baby?  Want Daddy to fuck you like Liam’s fucking Zayn?”

Louis moaned around Zayn’s dick, and he felt it grow a bit inside his mouth.  Jesus, Zayn was going to come _again_ …

“You want that,” Harry continued, “you want it so bad.  Want my cock inside you, yeah, it’s bigger than that toy, you know I could fuck you better than some piece of plastic…”

“Mmm,” Louis moaned around Zayn, “uhmmm.”

Louis felt something in his mouth then, something he could tell was Zayn’s cum but it wasn’t much, and suddenly Zayn was trying to push Louis away, but— “ _Stay there a minute, Louis_ —” Liam asked, and Louis’ eyes darted up to Harry, and Harry nodded, and Zayn kept pushing, and Louis kept sucking, and Zayn started to cry, and Harry lifted Louis’ head up by his hair.

Louis leaned forward blindly as he felt Harry drag his head up by his hair, confused eyes eventually looking up to see what Harry was planning to do.  With one hand still on Louis’ head, Harry slowly moved his gripped-cock forward as he pushed Louis’ face closer to his groin.

It was funny, Louis thought, that the first time he had Harry’s cock in his mouth, he was worried he was going to choke.  Now, the choking part _got him off_ , and his mouth began watering before Harry had even slipped past his parted lips.

Louis moaned as Harry easily slid inside his wet mouth, his noise one long string of vibration on Harry’s cock until Harry hit the back of Louis’ throat and stifled his sounds.

This was so different than Zayn.  Harry was huge, and it wasn’t that Zayn was lacking, but he was softer than Harry, was just…different.  Harry was _right_ , and Louis’ jaw ached with the stretch of Harry’s entire length inside his mouth, just like it should always be.

Harry’s cock was perfect.  His look, the feel, the _smell_ , everything.  Louis was so enamored with it all that he didn’t even realize he was starving for air until he began seeing little black spots in his vision.

He had to pull off for a quick breath, but then he sucked Harry down again, sloppy with it until Harry squeezed his hair and began fucking his face.  Louis could feel spit and pre-cum pool on the sides of his lips and spill down to his chin, could vaguely hear the little noises coming from his throat that warned he would soon begin truly gagging, but he didn’t care.  He just stuck his tongue out as far as it would go, rubbing it along the vein on the underside of Harry’s cock, curling it the best he could before he closed his eyes and hummed in happiness.

With every thrust from Harry, the tip of his cock stabbed at Louis’ tonsils until Louis completely relaxed his throat and just let the burn take over.

Sometimes, fucking wasn’t all it took for Louis to get to this beautiful, spacy place he suddenly found himself in.  Sometimes, he wanted to give over every _inch_ of himself in any way he could, be wrung out and used until he was left giddy and glorious.  Now was one of those times, and as Harry took Louis’ mouth and used it for his own pleasure, Louis was illuminated with dedication for him.  Louis loved the way Harry fucking his mouth made his jaw ache, his throat ache, his _body_ ache with the position he was straining himself in, on top of Zayn and so close to Liam.

“Shit, baby, so close,” Harry groaned.  “Shit, look at me, look up at me.”

Louis did so gladly, his wide eyes big and wet and desperate, his lips obscenely stretched around Harry’s huge cock, and Harry lost it.  Instantly, Harry could tell Louis had gone under, could tell it just by the look in his eyes, and _fuck_.  He moved faster and faster, his cock aimlessly and _visibly_ going down Louis’ throat, fucking blindly into his cheeks even, anything Harry could get.  “So fucking good for Daddy, can’t believe you’ve been this _good_ , baby, gonna come, gonna come, I’m gonna—”

And suddenly Harry stopped thrusting, just held the back of Louis’ head and pulled it forward as far as it would go, groaning and pulsating and _coming_ down Louis’ throat with uncontrollable noises of release and blinding pleasure, and Louis raised his hands to hold onto Harry’s thighs devotionally.

Louis desperately held onto Daddy’s legs, keeping his mouth suctioned to his Daddy’s pubic hair and making sure that Daddy wouldn’t push him off for any reason.

Daddy _did_ , though, and Louis made an upset face at the loss of contact, and, immediately wanting Daddy’s attention back, he put Daddy’s cock back inside his mouth.

“Baby…” Harry said, sounding like his voice was strained as he backed his dick away from Louis.  He quickly stepped over Zayn’s limp body and held onto Louis. “Let’s go over here,” he said gently, back on his knees again like Louis. 

He walked on his knees and moved Louis to a more open area behind the still-fucking couple, an open space by the sofa.

Louis found he couldn’t talk, and he just stared at Harry happily as Harry pushed him gently onto his back.  He gladly splayed out his limbs for Harry, showing off his body without modesty just like Harry liked, and Harry smiled.  It could have been the pain from the final spanking that had done it, or maybe it was just the undeniable _trust_ that Louis had in Harry, but whatever it was, Louis was _gone_.

“Open wider,” Harry murmured, slightly pushing Louis’ legs further apart and kissing the inside of one thigh when Louis opened his limbs as broadly as they’d go.

Louis was hot.  He needed to come.  He whined, but then he realized he would come when he was supposed to, so he exhaled at the thought that everything was in Harry’s hands now.  _Harry_ would make him come when Louis was ready.  And that was everything.

Harry rewarded him not a second later by delicately rolling the ring up and off his cock, and Louis sighed in pleasure at the freedom.  “ _Daddy_ ,” he sighed thankfully.

Harry wasted no time in finding the slick dildo from earlier, pushing it inside Louis’ loose arse, and bending down to wrap his mouth around Louis’ dark cock.  It took ten seconds of Harry expertly pushing the dildo against Louis’ prostate, ten seconds of Harry’s mouth suctioning against Louis’ cockhead, ten seconds of Harry’s tongue and Harry’s mouth and Harry’s hands, and Harry was _everything_.

“ _Come_ —come,” Louis grunted, “ _Daddy_!”

Louis couldn’t help it.  His legs buckled immediately as he felt his orgasm forcefully leave his body, everything that had been trapped inside exploding out all at once, and his hands fell down to Harry’s curls as he keened and filled Harry’s mouth with what he could tell was a huge amount of cum.

“Oh, my God,” Louis whispered, trembling and rolling his body to the side to try to get a break from Harry’s _still_ suctioning mouth.  “Oh, my fucking God, oh, my God, _ahh_...”

As Harry carelessly tossed the toy aside and stuck three fingers inside Louis’ arse at once, he lifted his mouth and said, “I forgot to tell you, baby, you can come whenever you want.”

He lowered his mouth again, and Louis groaned at the sensitivity of it, and now Harry’s fingers were moving inside him—finally, something _directly_ on his prostate, and – “Oh, fuck, gonna – _again_ —Daddy,” Louis moaned, again pulling at Harry’s hair.

He shouted Harry’s name as he came again not a minute after his first orgasm, wave after wave, leg muscles spasming all around Harry’s head with his climax.  Still, Harry didn’t stop, just kept on fucking into Louis with his fingers, kept on sucking on his cock as wrecked, sobbing moans suddenly tore from Louis’ mouth.  He rode out his second orgasm right as Harry pushed for another, and Louis couldn’t _form_ _words_ anymore.

His fingers twitched in Harry’s hair while he sniffled.  Harry lapped at his dick with long, unforgiving licks, and Louis’ hips were restless.  Harry pressed down on Louis’ stomach to keep him from squirming, pushing his fingers in as deep as they would go, uncertain if he was going _too_ deep perhaps, then suddenly, Louis’ body seized up again.  He threw his head back as his whole body shuddered and released, and the sounds that came from his mouth were properly unearthly.

Harry wanted to hear Louis come for as long as he lived, honestly.  He could barely taste anything coming out from Louis’ cock anymore because it was so liquidy, but he swallowed anyway before lifting his head.  Louis had tears rolling down his blotchy cheeks.

“Again,” Harry said, lowering his mouth once more onto Louis’ cock.

“Daddy, _no_ ,” Louis said as he wiggled backwards, but Harry didn’t listen.  “No” didn’t mean a thing to him.  “Just, mouth— _off_ ,” Louis begged.  “Please –not on my willy—“

Harry looked up at Louis’ face, finally realizing exactly how _small_ Louis must’ve been feeling right now to be using vocabulary like that.  Harry had been watching for it all night—had picked up the earlier stages of Louis’ skin color, his eyes, other important vitals—and now his behavior had confirmed it: he was truly, _truly_ in subspace.  He was still talking, however, still cognizant on some level, and that soothed Harry.

Hearing Louis cry in overstimulation, Harry gave Louis what he wanted and removed his mouth from Louis’ sensitive cock.  “I’ll take care of you, sweetie,” he promised Louis.

His fingers were still inside, though, and they weren’t going anywhere.  Harry’s left hand pressed _hard_ on Louis’ stomach, trying to stimulate his prostate from the outside, too, and Louis’ little hands gripped at nothing as he began moaning again.

“ _Daaaddyyy,”_ he whimpered.

Harry kissed his way along Louis’ inner thigh, fingers still rapidly massaging Louis from the outside and inside, and, unexpectedly, everything popped for Louis.  Instead of fighting with his orgasm like he had been doing—feeling it approach, clenching his body, squeezing on Harry’s head, Louis just _let it happen_ this time. 

He let the pleasure flow through his body as naturally as breathing air, like a gentle wave lapping the surface of the sand instead of hurricane waters erupting from deep within.  _Pop_ —his hands fell to the ground below him.   _Pop_ —he stopped clenching his muscles.  _Pop_ —his brain truly floated away.  No outside sounds or sights existed, just the indescribable feeling spreading through his body, and he was flying in a sea of white.

Harry watched cum fly out from Louis as Louis continued crying out the last of his moans, his whole body just consumed by his orgasm, but Harry didn’t relent.  He kept pressing on Louis’ stomach and chest, and Louis _wailed_.  His whole body locked up involuntarily, and suddenly a long string of cum exploded from his cockhead, then _another_ , and another, landing places Harry couldn’t determine or care about.  Harry kept massaging Louis’ prostate and the outside of his stomach, again and again, watching Louis’ cum burst out _again_ and _again_ , nonstop.  Harry was mesmerized that there was still that much _inside_ Louis to come out.

Finally, Harry’s fingers moved slower and slower before he withdrew them from Louis, soaking wet in the most delicious way.  Harry was momentarily too entranced by how _good_ Louis’ arsehole looked, so wet and perfect and still fluttering around nothing, to notice that Louis was shaking— _trembling_ —and making strange noises.

Harry quickly took his eyes off of Louis’ used arse to look at his face.  He was crying.  Not just silently crying like Harry had heard earlier, but _weeping_.  Loudly.  Those were the odd noises he had been making.  Harry panicked for a moment, afraid that he’d pushed Louis too far.  That had been…what?  Four orgasms?  Would that be considered _five_ , even?

Harry crawled up Louis’ body swiftly and entwined his fingers with the smaller boy’s restless ones, looking at him beseechingly.  “ _Baby_ …”

Harry felt a little better when he felt Louis apply a tiny bit of pressure against his hands, the smallest of squeezes to show Harry he was trying to respond.

“Louis? Are you okay?”

Harry knew the question was useless.  Louis’ eyes were closed, his face flushed and wet, little sobs still coming out of his mouth, so Harry just matched his body up with Louis’ side and held onto him as he got the last of his cries out of himself.

“You came so much, didn’t you, babe?” Harry asked once Louis’ breathing was a little more even.

Louis sniffed and nodded, not bothering with wiping off his face.  His voice wavered when he replied, “You kept making me come over and over again.”

Harry smiled smugly.  “I bet you can come even more.”  Louis didn’t answer, just rolled himself over and burrowed his head into Harry’s chest for warmth.  “How many times total do you think I can make you come tonight, baby?”

“I-I dunno, Daddy, think I’m empty…”

Harry ran his fingers through Louis’ hair upon hearing Louis speak the title still.  “You came quite a lot.  So much cum.  Bet you didn’t know you had that much inside, did you?  Can’t show you much, though…Daddy drank it all up cause you’re so lovely, tasted so sweet and so good.”

Louis’ head burrowed deeper into Harry’s chest.  “ _Daddy_ …”

Harry always knew that Louis was timid when asked to talk about what turned him on in bed, but what was _stunning_ was that Louis got positively _bashful_ when Harry actually _did_ what turned Louis on.  Using words like _sweet_ and _pretty_ to describe Louis—or now, Louis’ cum—was something that made Louis ridiculously happy.  And Harry was going to use that fact for all it was worth.

“So sweet in my mouth, just like you are,” Harry continued cooing.  “You’re the best boy in the whole world, taste so fucking good, look so beautiful.”

Louis lay on his back again then, sprawled himself out and looked at Harry like he was just waiting for him to do whatever it was that he wanted, and _fuck_.

“Rub your cum around,” Harry said spontaneously, just to see Louis touch his stomach.  Louis made circles on his tummy with his hands and spread around both of his last releases, getting stickiness and glitter all over his torso.  Harry shook his head in mild disbelief at how sexy he was.

“You’re too precious to be on this hard floor for any longer, I think.  Let’s get you in bed.”

Just standing made Louis feel like passing out; his limbs were that useless.  Luckily, Harry helped him up, and his whole world was disoriented as Harry carried him bridal style up to his bedroom.  He blinked heavily as the next thing he saw was the ceiling of his and Harry’s bedroom.

Louis was _high_ , so high, and he knew he was high, and he knew his body had just been almost pushed beyond his limits, but Harry was there taking care of him.  He knew he trusted Harry more than he knew anything else in the entire world.

Louis felt Harry shift his body around on the bed some, and Louis remembered opening his eyes to look at Harry once he felt Harry’s thick cock inside him at last, and then it was brightness again as a painful, pleasuring burn began to emerge again.  He felt Harry everywhere, and he wasn’t  sure where Harry was, just everywhere.

Eyes closed, Louis sought out one of Harry’s hands blindly and brought it to his own neck, pressing down as firmly as he could before dropping his hands again to lay by his sides.

Harry’s hips faltered.  He got the message clearly, but he was unsure.  He removed his hand.  “Baby…”

Louis opened his eyes and just stared at Harry, no blue left in his irises.  “Ple- _please_ …”

Harry lifted his right hand again and placed it gingerly on Louis’ throat, thumb able to feel Louis’ rapid heartbeat under his jaw, all four other fingers wrapped around the meaty part of the neck, along a thick vein.  He didn’t cut off Louis’ windpipe, just applied the gentlest of pressure, almost like Louis’ head depended on having Harry’s hand there, would just fall off it Harry were to remove it.

“Like this?” Harry asked.

“Daddy, just a little—tighter—”

“Daddy doesn’t want to hurt you, baby,” Harry said, sentences coming out with difficulty now because he was so close to coming inside of Louis even though his hips weren’t even moving anymore.

Harry felt Louis’ throat jump with his swallow.  “ _Please_ , wanna feel the power you have over me—”

“ _Jesus Christ_ ,” Harry said on an exhale.  “You have to—shit, you have to—just—pull on my ear if you want my hand off, okay?”

Louis wildly nodded his head, and Harry’s hips began their heavy thrusts again.  Louis closed his eyes again, wetly crying again now, never feeling so secure and loved in all his life.

“Louis—baby—“ Harry said desperately, fucking into Louis without slowing down but still trying not to let his hand sink down too far, still trying to watch Louis’ face, watch his color—then he felt Louis’ legs jiggle wildly against his hips.  He looked down and saw _more_ cum dribble out of Louis’ cockhead, and Louis’ face was wild and maroon as it twisted up in a soundless picture of ecstasy.

“Shit, again, you came,” Harry grunted, immediately releasing his hand from Louis’ neck.  _Louis just came six times._   Harry grabbed Louis’ ankles, lifted them up to rest on his shoulders, twisted Louis’ hips upwards, and began wildly thrusting.

Louis had to be over-sensitive by now, but Harry couldn’t control himself, didn’t want to.  He fucked into Louis’ arse relentlessly, letting his boyfriend’s loud cries fuel him, lifting him up higher to expose his arse all for Harry, all for Harry’s taking.  Hearing Louis _howl_ , Harry knew he finally found it, found the perfect angle to hit Louis’ prostate, and he took care to aim the blunt head of his dick there, pounding into Louis right against that sweet spot, mercilessly enforcing his pleasure, milking him completely dry.

Harry moved his hand to wrap around Louis’ cock again.

“ _Dad_ -dy,” Louis whined.

Harry looked down at his hand around Louis.  Louis was barely hard anymore, but he was still taking it, his balls tight and bouncing along with each of Harry’s drives, his face red with exertion, his mind probably somewhere far away.

“God, look at you _take_ it,” Harry groaned.

Louis kept weeping out in pleasure.  His noises were steady whines now, louder wails on each in-stroke from Harry when his long, thick cock prodded Louis’ prostate.

“Yeah, you love Daddy fucking you, don’t you?  Love coming on his cock?”

It was so fucking dirty, talking to Louis in third-person that way, as Louis’ _Daddy_ , but Harry barely listened to himself as he rattled on, letting the words come from a place deep inside him that existed only to serve Louis.  Louis was _there_ , Louis was in that place where everything felt good, and Harry just had to tell him how lovely he was.

“Bet you could take it for hours, Daddy could fuck you all night and you’d just keep coming, wouldn’t you, baby?”

Louis’ eyes were squeezed shut, moisture all around them, streaked beautifully down his face.  Harry knew he was listening, though; he just couldn’t answer.  He kept whimpering and nodding his head, so Harry continued.

“Fuck your arse so hard you feel it all week, spank your arse and make you remember you’re mine—all mine—”

Louis still didn’t reply, but Harry felt his arse tighten, flutter a bit around his erection, so he continued speaking down to him to make those impending waves spill, crash, and explode all over Louis’ stomach for the final time that night.  “You’d love that, wouldn’t you, baby?  Having Daddy make your arse all red, fuck it all night, come all over you?”

Louis’ lips trembled with how hard he was crying at listening to Harry.  He just loved Harry so much, and that was the only thought that was in his entire head—just love for Harry, the perfect Daddy for him—

“I know, baby, Daddy loves you, too— _baby_ —“

And then Louis’ chanting became incoherent wailing as his arse clamped tight on Harry’s length and his whole body seized with his last orgasm, except nothing at all came out of his body.  His face was streaked with tears that were still streaming down.  Lips bitten raw.  Skin blotchy and flushed and sheening with sweat.  Arms tight and by his sides, tearing at the damp sheets.  Harry couldn’t handle the sight a moment longer.

“Fuck, Louis!  Oh, fuck—”

Harry let himself go for the second time that night, let Louis’ legs fall from his shoulders as he filled Louis up with deep, aching pulses of his cum, brutally pushing inside Louis’ arse until he was sure everything was deposited deep inside him, claiming him in the filthiest way possible.

“Oh, shit,” Harry muttered, hips finally slowing to a stop as he laid his body fully atop Louis’ and pressed kisses along his wet face, anywhere he could find.  He collapsed beside Louis, panting, and blindly pulled Louis’ body closer to his own.  Glitter was everywhere, come and sweat and who-knew-what-else dampening the sheets, but Harry literally didn’t care.

Louis curled into a ball and continued to cry.

“Daddy’s here, Daddy’s here,” Harry chanted.  He truthfully felt like crying, too.  What the hell had just happened.

Louis’ fingers reached behind him and found the soft bit of skin on the side of Harry’s stomach and squeezed it.  “ _Daddy_ …”

“Sweetheart,” Harry said gently, thinking that calmness was his best bet right now, the only way to get Louis to calm down.

Louis made a small, high noise as he felt Harry turn him around so they were facing one another.  “I love you,” he said, teeth chattering against Harry’s body as Harry again wrapped his arms around the small boy.

Harry smiled.  “Love you, too.  So much.”

Louis burrowed his head into the area around Harry’s armpit.  “Mean it?”

“Of course I mean it, sweetie, of course.”  Harry ran his fingers up and down Louis’ back, trying to warm him up.  Louis just kept crying.

“Do you believe me?  Do you trust me?”

Louis nodded.  “I trust you with everything, Daddy.”

“Why are you still crying, baby?”

“I just—love you so much,” Louis sniffed.  His voice got a little lower, a little back-to-normal as he added, “God…I’ve this really weird fear suddenly that you’re about to leave, sorry.”  He wiped his eyes and shook his head, trying to rid his feelings of clinginess.  “Sorry, sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, baby, come back here,” Harry asked, pushing Louis’ head forward again into the crook of his arm.  “I’m not going anywhere,” he continued in a soothing voice.

 _God_ , Louis had literally just come more than Harry had ever witnessed in all the time he’d been with Louis.  That was utterly unbelievable.  He had to be exhausted.  No wonder he was crying so hard.  His body had been through the most extreme sex they’d ever had.

“Do you need—are you sleepy?”

Louis surprisingly shook his head.  “I feel wide awake,” he slurred ironically.  “Exhausted but still wide awake.”

“You’ll be getting tired any minute, baby.  D’you think you can you wait here by yourself while I g—”

Louis whined, and Harry kissed his forehead.  “I’ve got to get you water and something to eat, baby, we’ve been at it for hours…”

“Not yet, please, don’t go…”

Harry nodded, and he held Louis for a long time until finally backing away again to assess him.  His eyes were still black, but his skin wasn’t red anymore, and he wasn’t so sweaty.  “Getting water real quick, love,” he whispered nicely, “be _right_ back.”

Louis looked unhappy and brought a fingernail up to his mouth to bite.  “How long will you be gone?”

Harry wanted to chuckle, but he knew that Louis was seriously worried and in his clingy phase, so he consoled as best as he could, “Not even one whole minute.  If you can, you can count for me, and I’ll be back before you even get to sixty.”

Though exhausted himself, Harry surprisingly made good on his promise, and he came back to the room with an armful of goodies.

Louis beamed in relief as he rolled over in bed to face the door.

Harry almost dropped everything in his hands as he saw what Louis was doing.  His hand was reached behind his back, fingers covering his hole so Harry’s semen wouldn’t leak out.  Harry composed himself quickly, however, and, one by one, put the water and fruit on his nightstand before crawling back in bed with Louis.

“Just what are you doing, naughty boy?”

“It’s seeping out,” Louis whispered, fingers stuck inside his arse, trying to push Harry’s cum back inside.

“You _know_ you’re not to do that, Louis—“

“I know, but it’s— it’s coming out!”

Harry reemerged from the closet holding up a large plug, and Louis stuck out his bum so Harry could push the toy inside, but Harry shook his head and put a bottle of uncapped water in Louis’ hands.

“You’ve got to drink first.  You sweated everything out, didn’t you?”

Louis nodded and wrapped his obscene lips around the bottle, sucking down the liquid in a suggestive manner Louis was oblivious to.

“Slow,” Harry reminded.

When Louis was done drinking and Harry was satisfied with the amount of snacks he’d nibbled on, he let Louis fall back into the bed, where he finally stuck the bulbous plug inside Louis’ arse.  Louis looked at Harry and smiled, satisfied now that he was full again and that all of Harry wasn’t going to come back out.  “I’ve got glitter on you,” he laughed.

Harry smiled, too.  “Yeah, we made big messes, didn’t we?”

Louis nodded but looked to the side, knowing what Harry was referring to.  Harry saw his sudden shyness and pressed, “You made the biggest, prettiest mess of all.  Came so much.”

“Yeah…”  Louis hid his face in Harry’s chest.

“Came _so_ many times,” Harry said, drawing it out even more.  “I kept count.”

“Oh.”

“You wanna know?  Wanna know how many times you came?” Louis nodded against Harry’s side. “Seven.”

“Oh.  Wow.”  Was that possible?

Harry laughed.  “Yeah, _wow_.  You did everything I asked you to do tonight, didn’t you?  You were so, so perfect.”

Louis smiled dopily.  “Think I feel tired now.”

“I bet you do.  Let me rub lotion on you and then it’ll be bedtime, ‘kay?”

“’Kay.”

Harry was confused when the lotion he normally used was nowhere to be found, but luckily, he found a bottle of old cream with just enough left in it to rub on Louis’ arse and soothe him.  His arse was dark and bruised in some places, but he made nothing but happy noises as Harry rubbed the lotion along his skin.

Harry fluffed up the pillows on Louis’ side of the bed and tucked him in nice and tight before kissing him on the forehead. “Now you go to sleep.  I love you so much, baby.”

Louis closed his eyes with a smile on his face.  Not very long later, when Harry was still reflecting on the night’s events while staring at the ceiling, he could tell by Louis’ breathing that he hadn’t gone to sleep yet.

“You’re still awake?”

Louis nodded his head and flung his body onto Harry’s.  “Wanna stay awake, wanna stay with you.”

Harry ran his hands up and down Louis’ smooth, now-dry back.  Hearing Louis say things like that just did things to him.  He just loved him _so much_ and always wanted to protect him.  He contemplated what he was about to say for a very long time, but he finally got the courage to say it.  Though he knew that Louis needed his sleep, he said, “I think…I think it’s time to finally give you something.”

Louis opened his eyes in curiosity.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time,” Harry muttered more or less to himself as he slid out from underneath Louis and got out of bed.

Harry walked into the closet, disappeared for a few moments, and reemerged with a hidden, plain parcel.  Louis was now sat up against the headboard when Harry walked to him and presented the brown box from behind his back.

“Here,” Harry said.  He gently placed the box in Louis’ lap.  “It’s…a special present.  From me to you.”

Louis looked at it for a moment before looking up at Harry.  “Can I open it?”

Harry nodded and took a deep breath. “Please do.”

Louis did so.  He easily lifted the top of the box with excited, closed eyes, and once he felt that it was open, he looked down at his lap and popped his eyes open.  He gasped when he saw what was inside.  “Oh, my God,” Louis whispered.

Harry saw Louis’ little fingers reach nervously into the box in what Harry hoped was a positive sign, and the next moment, Louis’ head darted back up to look at Harry.  “Can I—will you—?”

Harry’s eyes were dark, and Louis’ mouth fell open as Harry lifted his chin up high with just his index finger, all the breath in his lungs suddenly leaving his body at once.

Harry reached into the box, lifting the collar that he had spent _so long_ searching for and holding it loosely in his free hand.

“You understand what this means,” Harry said, the lilt of his voice rising a bit in question, but Louis didn’t answer.  Instead, he kept his unblinking eyes trained on Harry.  “This is…This is big, Louis.  I want you to think about it.” 

Louis had already made his decision long ago, just hadn’t voiced it yet, but he didn’t interrupt Harry.

“It’s…the ultimate symbol of devotion.  But I want you to know that it goes two ways.  I’m giving it to you because I trust you and love you with everything I have.  I really, truly do. I want you to—I want you to be mine, really be mine.  And wear this for me.  To remind you of that. If that’s something you want, too.  If you’ll agree to it.”

“I _am_ yours,” Louis barely whispered.  “I want—“ Louis swallowed.  “I want to show you that I’m yours.  I want it.  So much.”

Harry hid his enjoyment, still a little nervous about this since they hadn’t really talked about it before.  “You’re absolutely positive?”

Louis nodded quickly.  “Your hands…around my throat…” he trailed off, voice low.  “Yes.  Yes, I’m positive.  I want it.”

Harry nodded.

It was then that Harry put on the simple leather collar with the single silver clasp around Louis’ neck.  If Louis had any memory at the moment, he would find it humorous and amusing at how skillful Harry’s hands were while touching _him_ when just earlier in the night he couldn’t do up his own tie, but Louis was all seriousness right now.  His eyes never left Harry’s.

Everything felt right.  The heaviness of the collar around his neck just symbolized the heavy meaning it held, and Louis was so, so grateful to be wearing it.  He was sure that Harry could feel the veins in his neck throb with how fast his heart pounded.

Harry finally looked at Louis again after running a single finger along the collar, scanning Louis’ entire face before reaching his eyes.

“Perfect,” Harry said finally.   His hands dropped to hold Louis’, and he let out a breathless little laugh at how unbelievable Louis was.  “I love you.”

Louis bit his lip as he smiled widely, something adorably cute that Harry unfortunately had to end.  He freed Louis’ bottom lip with his thumb and lowered his mouth to capture Louis’ lips in the first real kiss they shared all night, but it wasn’t their last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it, but I realize this maybe wasn't for everyone. :)
> 
> If you're curious, Zayn and Liam ended up going into the guest room not too long after Harry and Louis stepped away from their area, and Liam came with Zayn pinned underneath his body on the bed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Louis show a different side of their relationship because Harry is sick. Zayn doesn't feel well, either, but it's for a completely different reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags that Apply: Rimming, Masturbation, Fingering, Anal Sex, Sex Toys, Recreational Drug Use, Sub-Drop, Angst
> 
> Warnings: I don't play FIFA, so sorry for any inaccuracies with that. There isn't a whole lot of smut in this chapter because of last chapter's heaviness and the upcoming LAST CHAPTER of filth coming up! It's a super long chapter regardless, but this stuff had to happen before next chapter's stuff, so...
> 
> My apologies for this update being so late, too. Thanks for everybody who has patiently waited and who has cheered me on along the way. Love every one of you!

Late that night, oblivious to anything else in the world, Harry and Louis kissed for what felt like forever.  Their mouths hardly ever parted as they snogged—leisurely, unhurried—and Harry delicately massaged Louis’ spent body all the while.  Eventually, Louis’ lips quit working, and he fell asleep with his mouth still pressed to Harry’s, a slight smile that hadn’t quite gone away still painted on his face.

“I’ll do anything you ever ask me to, you know that?” Harry whispered to Louis’ soft, relaxed face, kissing him one last time.  “Anything in the world…”

Louis hummed in his sleep, and Harry, exhausted himself, burrowed in closer to his body.

Meanwhile, Zayn lay in the guest bedroom downstairs, staring at the ceiling as Liam soundly slept next to him.  Now that all the events of the night were over, Zayn’s body was aching and more than a little in shock, and he didn’t know what to think about everything that had just happened.  All he knew was that he felt oddly worried and lonely despite the fact that Liam’s arm was casually thrown over his stomach, and it was weird for him to feel so uncomfortable.

Zayn wriggled closer to Liam’s body for comfort, but finding no real warmth there, he rolled over onto his side, hugged his own body, and silently cried for no reason he could make sense of, and that just made everything worse.

 

* * *

 

Louis awoke without opening his eyes and lazily stretched, immediately groaning at the overall ache stinging his body.  As his eyes fluttered open and he looked down at his own crusty, glittery chest, he was reminded of the fuzzy yet lucid events from last night, and he brought a light hand up to his neck.

With silent amazement, he felt the thin binding leather beneath his fingertips and instantaneously beamed, his free hand coming up to his mouth to bite at his knuckles. 

Harry had given him a _collar_. 

From the feeling inside his arse, Harry had also _plugged_ him and Louis must’ve forgotten, but all Louis could think about was that _Harry had given him a collar._

Louis couldn’t take his hand away from his throat.  As if there were any questioning it, he was _officially_ Harry’s now—and by extension, Harry was officially _his_.  They would belong to each other for eternity if Louis wanted to imagine that eternity existed.  And if he was going to wear a collar for Harry, pretending he had eternity to be with him wasn’t hard at all.

_A collar._

Louis stretched again and happily sighed.

His body hurt, his mind was swimming, and he was dead-tired, but Louis reckoned he was more euphoric than he’d ever been in just about his entire life.  With the sheets tangled around his legs like a second skin, he shuffled his body closer to his handsome, sleeping boyfriend and fondly smiled at the sight of him.

Harry’s mouth was wide open, and he was snoring rather loudly, making Louis laugh out loud and push up Harry’s chin to shut his jaw.  Harry just smacked his lips and grunted in response, snoring again not seconds later.

Louis stared at Harry for a few more moments.  He was snoring quite loudly, like _unattractively_ loudly—louder than he normally did, like he couldn’t breathe from his nose or something—and Louis’ amused smile faded into a look of concern.  Swiftly, he felt at Harry’s forehead with the back of his hand, and his eyebrows knit in worry as he noticed that Harry’s skin was warm.  A bit _too_ warm. 

His first instinct was to shake Harry’s shoulders to wake him up.

Harry made a noise in response, a low grunt of annoyance.  Immediately afterward, Harry’s hand went to his throat, just like Louis’ hand had when he had first woken up, but Louis knew it was for an entirely different reason: Harry was sick.

Louis brushed aside Harry’s slightly damp curls from his forehead and looked at him in pity.  “ _Harry_ …”

Harry didn’t open his eyes or respond, just ran his hands along his own face, scrubbing off invisible dirt there.  Then, reaching for the blanket that had been pushed to the end of the bed, he covered his entire body and clumsily rolled over to face Louis.  Shivering slightly in the cool room, Harry threw an arm over the smaller boy and nestled in closer to his body.

“Baby,” Louis whispered, immediately moving away from Harry’s clammy skin and feeling at it with his hands again.  “ _Harry_ , you feel really hot.”

Harry just shook his head and burrowed back into Louis.  “Cold,” he croaked.

Louis sighed unhappily. Nothing tugged at his heartstrings quite like an ill Harry.  “You’re sick.”

Harry’s face contorted in discomfort as he swallowed and pointed to this throat.  “Just hurts.”

“And you know that’s always the first symptom,” Louis said softly to himself, carefully rolling out of bed.  His arse was hurting and very tender, and he knew he needed to take the plug out, but he was being stubborn and didn’t want to.

Harry’s eyes finally opened at the feeling of Louis leaving the bed, and it didn’t pass Louis that Harry was looking up at Louis’ _neck_ rather than at his eyes. Harry bit his bottom lip. “Come back.”

Louis’ voice was light and soft.  “I’ll just get you some tea. To help your throat.”

Harry jumped out of bed and immediately stumbled, now dizzy from getting up too quickly.  He placed a large hand on his nightstand to steady himself, but Louis had already shuffled to Harry’s side of the bed the best he could to keep Harry from falling.

With his hands on the tops of Harry’s arms, Louis clicked his tongue. “ _Harry_ , what’re you doing? Get back in bed!” he worried.

Maybe it had something to do with the collar he was still wearing or maybe it was just witnessing Harry not feeling well, but whatever the reason, Louis was in the mood to _serve_.  He felt a strong compulsion to nurse Harry back to health despite how determined Harry always was at turning down that help when he was feeling poorly.

Harry stood fully upright then—all tall, pale, and naked in the morning light—to show Louis he was okay.

“I’ve just got a sore throat, Lou,” Harry argued lightly, pushing Louis’ hands off his arms and holding them loosely with his fingertips. “I’m not _dying_.  And after last night, I need to be taking care of you, not the other way around.”

Louis dropped his hands out of Harry’s in order to motion to the bed.  “Darling, your voice sounds awful.  And I’m _fine_.”  _More than fine, even_ —He was still riding high from last night.  “Just—just, you should get back in bed and let me get you tea.  I can tell you’ve probably got a fever.”

“No, I haven’t. Turn around.”

Louis was trying to push Harry back into bed but stopped.  “What?”

“Turn around,” Harry persisted, raising his voice and wincing at how much it hurt.  As he automatically wrapped a hand around his own throat to alleviate the burn, Louis furrowed his brows.

“You’re _sick_ , Harry—“

Harry interrupted with a rasp, “Would you please just turn around,” leaving no room for argument, even if Louis pulled a face once his backside was to Harry.

Harry’s fingertips were gentle as they skimmed Louis’ back, down down down until they reached his perky bare arse and paused.  Harry’s mouth was in a straight line upon seeing how inflamed everything looked, an indication of just how far things had gone last night.

“This is coming out,” Harry said, referring to the plug his index finger was now resting on.  He felt neglectful for not removing it while Louis was sleeping because now it would take much longer for Louis to recover, but, well…he was a bit preoccupied last night.

With a wet sound, Harry pulled at the toy until it damply slid from Louis’ body along with Harry’s excess cum, and then he examined Louis some more once he wrapped the plug in tissues and put it aside.

Louis’ whole arse appeared raw, and his arsehole was puffy.  He definitely needed attention there: more aftercare, more cream, close examination to make sure everything was healing properly.  Without thinking, Harry gently ran his finger along Louis’ rim, feeling around.

Louis cleared his throat out of embarrassment, and it was only then, for Louis’ comfort, that Harry removed his finger.  He continued staring at Louis’ hole, though, magnetized by how _open_ Louis was, by how, if he really wanted to, he could slip himself right back inside and make a home there. “What’s it feel like?”

Louis’ breath hitched.  “Really…wet…”

Harry swallowed.  “Nothing hurts?” he pressed.

Louis shrugged.  “It’s—obviously it hurts a bit, but it’ll go away.”

Harry’s head had begun to pound behind his eyes, a congestion forming that he hadn’t noticed before, but he forcefully kept his thoughts with Louis.  “What were you gonna say?”

“Just…It just feels really, really open,” Louis said quietly.  His head was down.  The topic was beginning to make him sleepy in a way— _slower_ again, completely in Harry’s control.

_Harry’s._

“And your skin?”

Louis answered honestly, “Burns.  ‘S sore.  Nothing I can’t handle.”  When Harry didn’t respond, Louis looked over his shoulder at him and noticed Harry’s frown.  Harry’s eyes were fixated on the various red shading of Louis’ arsecheeks, the few scattered bruises, even an area of raised skin that Harry’d tried so hard to avoid causing.

“I’m honestly fine,” Louis tried to reason.  It always hurt to sit down for quite a while when he was this tender, but Louis didn’t mind it.  On the contrary, it made him happy to have the memory of everything stay with him for days and days and days.

Harry deeply sighed.  His number-one goal was to always avoid injury when inflicting pain on Louis, and he’d thought that he’d purchased a paddle lightweight enough to minimize what he was currently seeing.

 _“Don’t,”_ Louis pled.  “The cream always helps—“

Harry’s voice was progressively croakier and more nasal as he instructed, “So get back in bed and let me put the cream on.”

“I can do it myself, Harry, really, it’s okay.  I just want to go get you tea, honestly—“

The look Harry gave Louis after that was serious enough that Louis lowered his head and nodded at last, climbing on the bed and situating himself on his stomach just moments later.

Harry took a long time lotioning up Louis’ arse, over and over again until it was buttery and smooth, even making Louis’ breath hitch by sporadically blowing air on it to it to soothe it further.  Louis had to admit that he loved this part, that it really wouldn’t have been the same if he had to do it himself.  He closed his eyes and let himself bask in the feeling of Harry’s hands massaging and roaming all over his body—his completely nude body except for the collar he still adorned and never wanted to remove.

Louis lovingly looked at Harry once he was finished—a long, docile look—but inside, a voice still told him he needed to get up now and give Harry what _he_ needed to feel better.  “Thank you,” Louis whispered sweetly.  “I’ll get you that tea now.”

Harry grumbled.  “Go back to sleep with me,” he asked with a pout.

“You need your tea at the very least,” Louis responded.  “And probably medicine.”

Harry pouted further. “All I need is sleep and you.”

And maybe it was the collar, maybe it was love, maybe it was _Harry_ , but Louis just smiled and let Harry wrap his arms around his tiny body, smiling when Harry’s stubble tickled Louis’ skin.

The boys’ breaths became deeper as they succumbed to their mutual exhaustion, Harry mostly breathing heavily through his mouth.  “I told you…you know how good you are, yeah?” Harry slurred.  “How sweet you are…how perfect…”

A strong feeling that started in Louis’ stomach and spread up to his neck warmed Louis’ skin, and he smiled as he let out a soft affirmation.

“Good,” Harry murmured.  His large hand slightly squeezed at Louis’ stomach to corroborate his words before lifting to gently hook around Louis’ collar.  “’Cause you are.”

Eventually their heavy breathing began to match, and they drifted off to sleep again, Louis safe and small in Harry’s arms.

 

* * *

 

 

“Harry, you’re seriously _burning up,”_ Louis said after he woke up stifling hot beside Harry some time later.  _Medicine,_ Louis though _t, he has to take medicine._

Louis’ words weren’t loud, but they hurt Harry’s ears.  Suddenly, his head felt like a million pounds, like his ears and throat and nose and _entire face_ were all full of snot, and he rolled over onto his back and moaned in discomfort.  He nodded with his eyes still closed.

“ _Finally_ you agree to let me help you, you stubborn git,” Louis muttered as he threw on a pair of boxers and a random shirt of Harry’s as quickly as he could. 

“Louis,” Harry rasped.

Louis didn’t turn around.  His muscles _ached_ , but not even that was a big deal to Louis as he hurried to the bedroom door with only the mission of tea-making on his mind.  “Only a joke, but you _are_ stubborn as hell sometimes—can’t believe I slept in so late when you’re—”

“No, come back here,” Harry interrupted.

“Seriously, it’s okay—I’m _fine_. I’m perfectly capable of fixing your tea.”

“Louis,” Harry said louder, finally gaining Louis’ attention.  He made a gesture to his own throat as if unclamping and removing something once Louis finally looked his way.  When Louis got the message Harry was sending, he pulled a face and whined.

Louis sounded like a child as he whinged, “But I don’t _want_ to take it off…”

Harry reached for the tissues by his bed and blew his nose rather loudly.  “Neither do I.  But come here.”

Louis purposefully slumped his shoulders as he walked back to the bed, bending over and allowing Harry to unclamp the leather that he’d already gotten so used to.  Louis eyed the collar with an unhappy expression as Harry held it in his hands.

“It’s not going anywhere, Lou,” Harry said thickly while opening a drawer of his nightstand.  “Just right here.”

Louis slowly nodded.  “…We’re using it again, though, right?”

“I intend to,” Harry replied with his eyes locked on Louis’.  Harry’s voice was surprisingly deeper, and, albeit a result of sickness, Louis was struck by how _hot_ Harry sounded.  He stood immobilized by the side of the bed.

After moments of silent eye-contact, Harry seemed to remember something.  “Take your time down there—don’t rush, okay?  And don’t forget—make something for yourself to eat.  Something decent.”

“Something decent” turned out to be sausage, toast, and eggs, and Louis was quite proud of himself.

 

* * *

 

Blindly grimacing at the sunlight beaming in through the window behind the bed, Zayn threw a pillow over his head. Out of instinct, he groaned, “ _Liam_ ,” into the fabric, thinking if the sun was that bright, it was way too early to be awake, and if it was way too early to be awake, Liam was most likely stirring.

But there was no reply from Liam because there was no Liam in the bed to be found. 

Zayn moved the pillow, squinted an eye open, and was confused for a moment until he heard noises across the hall.  Liam must’ve been in the shower, Zayn presumed, which only confused him more.  On days off, Liam normally stayed in bed with Zayn when they slept together, even if it meant just lying there scrolling through his phone until Zayn finally woke up.  They’d even gotten into the habit of showering with one another, as well—not _alone_ —and Zayn deeply frowned.

Zayn shifted around in the bed before finally giving up on sleep altogether.  He’d fallen asleep with difficulty last night, and he clearly wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep now.  Feeling abandoned and rather moody all of a sudden, he slid his pants up his legs and aimlessly lumbered along the hallway, finding himself in the kitchen before too long. 

He noticed a happy-looking Louis preparing tea but didn’t bother greeting him; everything was too sunny for him, too bright.  Louis padded about the kitchen humming, and it irrationally made Zayn cross.

“ _Zayn_ ,” Louis exclaimed in faux-shock, turning around and smiling once he finally noticed the other’s presence.  “It’s—it’s before _noon_!  On a day off!”

Zayn shrugged and opened the refrigerator.  He stood there for a long time in just his tight underwear, staring at nothing.  “Can’t really sleep,” he replied.

Louis was too cheerful to recognize Zayn’s morose mood.  “Long night?” he asked Zayn with a smirk.

Zayn shrugged again, and Louis brought his eyebrows together. “All right, there, Z? Feeling okay?”

Once more, Zayn shrugged.  Truthfully, his muscles were sore, and he felt in need of a deep-tissue massage or something.  Even his _cock and_ _balls_ ached, like he’d come so much last night that he was truly empty, and surprisingly, that hurt.  Normally, coming so much that he still felt it the next morning would be a happy occasion, but not when Zayn wasn’t even sure if Liam had liked any of it.

Zayn closed the refrigerator door without removing anything whatsoever and quietly walked back down the hall without saying any more to Louis.

Louis worried that Zayn had somehow gotten whatever sickness Harry was struggling with upstairs.  “Sure you’re not feeling feverish?” he called out.

Zayn couldn’t find it in him to respond.  He was currently passing the loo, and knowing Liam was inside without him just made him feel _bad_ for some reason.

Louis watched Zayn’s retreating form and slightly frowned.  He looked to his right where all the glittery, stained sheets from last night lay in the lounge, disheveled and dirty and absolutely _everywhere_.  “I’m not cleaning up this entire room on my own, you know!”

Zayn grumbled to himself as he jerked back the blankets on the bed and plopped back down under the superficial warmth they gave.  He glared at the ceiling for a very long time until he heard the shower turn off, and, nonsensically, he rolled over onto his stomach and closed his eyes.

Zayn soon sensed and smelled Liam beside him, and he knew if he’d just open his eyes, he could _see_ Liam, as well, but he was too sullen (and also strangely _embarrassed_ ) to look at Liam’s face.

“Zayn,” Liam whispered. 

Liam’s fingers lightly tickled Zayn’s neck as they softly touched there, but part of Zayn selfishly admitted that he wanted Liam to actually “wake him up,” so to speak—to kiss on him and play with his hair and annoy him with his alertness like he did on other mornings.  But it seemed that Liam had decided to leave him alone.

When Zayn’s soft breathing was Liam’s only answer, Liam’s face turned tender.   Zayn was probably exhausted after being so thoroughly fucked last night, so Liam carefully climbed back into bed, mindful not to get too horribly close to Zayn and accidentally wake him up.  Still, Liam curled up beside Zayn with a hand rested on his hip, the only thoughts in his head revolving around what a lovely day off with him it was going to be.

 

* * *

 

It was about two in the afternoon when the house finally became completely alive.

Louis had a quick shower after coercing Harry to not only take paracetamol but to also drink two full cups of tea because— _“You’ve got to keep your fluids up, Hazza”—_ andhe exited the loo feeling refreshed and finally _clean_.  He supposed that it really didn’t matter anyway, however, because immediately after toweling off, he gathered all of Harry’s scattered, used tissues with his bare hands and binned them.

Harry forced himself out of bed and murmured, “ _Love you_ ,” before gratefully accepting and putting on the random articles of clothing that Louis threw his way.

Louis watched mournfully as Harry dressed himself and tripped over his own limbs.  “Oh, Hazza, clumsy little red-nosed love of mine...”

___

Though for very briefly, Zayn had actually ended up falling asleep again earlier, and when he woke up by himself for the _second_ _time_ that day, he fitfully put on clothes and finally accepted the fact that _yes_ , he was alone again, and _no_ , Liam really must not fucking care.

After washing his hair in the guest bathroom sink, Zayn found all the other lads in the kitchen doing various things.  Louis was on the phone with Niall by the refrigerator, Harry was piddling with stuff at the stove, and Liam was lazily leaning against the countertops. 

Dressed in joggers and a useless snapback, Liam smiled and straightened himself out when he noticed Zayn walk in.   Zayn just greeted the whole room with a silent wave then stood off by himself, trying to act like he was looking at important things on his phone while truthfully checking out Liam in his peripheral vision.

Liam was quick to walk to Zayn’s side.  “Morning,” he greeted cheekily, being that it was past two.

“Hey,” was Zayn’s quiet reply.  He didn’t look up from his phone, not sure what Liam was feeling after last night and a little hesitant to meet his eyes.  Liam didn’t press Zayn for any more conversation, just ducked his head and kissed Zayn’s cheek, and Zayn wasn’t sure to be happy or sad about that.  Zayn decided to go with sad because a kiss on the cheek still didn’t change the fact that Liam had showered without him, still didn’t make up for the words of love that Zayn’s heart begged to hear from Liam but didn’t.

Louis had his mobile to his ear as he quickly ushered Harry to sit down at the nearby table.  “And you _did_ hear me when I told you Harry’s unwell, yeah?” he spoke into the phone.

“I don’t get sick,” Niall persisted on the other end.  “You know this.”

“Oh, right,” Louis responded, “I’d forgotten you’ve got that special Irish immunity.”

“He’s not actually _getting_ sick, is he?” Niall clarified.

“No, it’s mostly in his head, but it’s, like, going to his throat as the day goes on, so...”

“Aw, shit, I don’t know what’s worse, then.  Tell him I’m bringing beer if it’ll make him feel better.”

“Not the best idea. I think he’s got a bit of a fever.”

“Well, beer could solve that, yeah? Be there in five.”

Louis sighed and ended the call.  “Well, Niall’s determined to come over,” Louis told Liam and Zayn as he carried a massive pot of something boiling to Harry at the table, “so can I _please_ get some help cleaning that room?”

“Yeah, mate, I’ll do it,” Liam offered.  Looking at Zayn, he winked and said, “Since Zayn did such a good job at decorating it all, I’ll take it down.”

Zayn wanted to roll his eyes, but he stopped himself.  He didn’t love his sudden annoyance (if that’s what it even was) with Liam, but there it was anyway, abruptly just festering inside, boiling under his skin.  He just wished that Liam would actually _talk_ to him, pay _real_ attention to him.  Alone.  He hadn’t gotten Liam’s sole attention in ages, it seemed.

Yesterday at the charity dinner, Liam had ignored Zayn the entire time.  Zayn had thought that was just part of his punishment, but now he wasn’t so sure.  Without any real conversation, Liam passed out almost immediately after coming last night, and he still hadn’t discussed anything—or even made an attempt to discuss anything—with Zayn since then.  So what if the common denominator in all of this was just Zayn himself?  Was he still being punished?  Or was Liam just not pleased with him?

Zayn’s annoyance suddenly turned into sorrow.

Zayn watched Liam pick up all the sheets in the lounge and carefully toss them in piles.  After worrying over Harry some more, Louis carried the sheets away somewhere, and meanwhile, Liam vacuumed up remnants of glitter while Zayn kept blankly staring at him.

With his emotions going back and forth like a light switch, Zayn felt like he was going mad.  All of his thoughts were muddled and confusing and _negative_ , and he normally wasn’t like this.  Maybe it was all from lack of sleep, but something deep inside—some horrible, nasty voice deep inside—was taunting his own self, telling him he was worthless, and Zayn felt like crying again just like he had pointlessly done last night. 

It was just…With each sheet Liam cleared away, it was like Liam was washing away last night’s unimportant events, like he was pushing Zayn aside, like Zayn had just been used for a good time and was now inadequate, forgotten.  And it hurt.

Even as these thoughts entered Zayn’s mind, Zayn was confused even further.  Where were they coming from?  Everything last night was _perfect,_ wasn’t it?  Everything had felt excellent.  Zayn honestly had no negative memories of _anything_.  In the moment, he had been so ridiculously happy.  In the moment, he had felt special to Liam.  These facts just further convinced Zayn that he was being mental, and he shook his head to rid himself of all his ridiculous contemplations as he took a seat in front of Harry at the kitchen table.

It didn’t take too long after that for Niall to let himself inside—two huge pizzas and some beer in his hands—and he laughed at one of the first sights he saw upon walking into the house: somebody at the table with a towel over his head, face perched over a huge pot of something sweet-smelling.

Niall looked around, and after noting all the other boys, he asked, “Harry?”

What sounded like Harry’s greeting to Niall reverberated from under the towel, and Niall chuckled.  “What on earth are you doing?” Niall asked as he kicked off his shoes.

“He’s breathing in _herbs_ ,” Louis answered for Harry, sighing as he dusted off his hands.  “Since that works so much better than actual medicine.”  (Louis had tried to pressure Harry into taking a decongestant with his other medicine earlier, and Harry had refused.)

Harry retorted with something muffled that nobody heard, and Liam laughed as he reentered the room and stood next to the table.

“Why don’t you go back to sleep, Harry?” Liam asked.

Harry raised his head from the pot of chamomile then, his white towel framing his positively pathetic-looking face, and Louis’ own face twisted in sympathy.

Zayn stared at the table stonily.  Liam _still_ wasn’t paying any attention to him.  Hadn’t all morning.  He seemed more focused on Harry being sick than his own _boyfriend’s_ state-of-mind , and Zayn receded further into his own head as he watched Liam convince Harry to go back to bed and rest.

“You look really pale,” Liam continued.

“Excuse me, Liam,” Harry croaked. “I’m tired, and it’s winter.”

“Not quite winter yet actually, but I was just saying maybe you should just try to sleep it off,” Liam suggested.

What if _Zayn_ needed rest? Liam wasn’t asking _him_ if he wanted to go back to sleep. Liam wasn’t asking him anything.

“Yeah, babe,” Louis chimed in, “let me tuck you back in bed.”

Harry simply nodded and stood up, abandoning everybody to literally drag his limbs up the stairs. Louis held a finger up to everyone as he scurried to Harry’s side to assist him.

“You don’t need to be going up and down and up and down,” Louis’ voice was heard fading as he slowly walked upstairs step-by-step.  “If you need something, just ask me, even if it’s your stupid _pot of chamomile,_ and I’ll…”

Niall had already placed the pizzas on a nearby counter and was currently opening and closing cupboards in search of plates. “That sucks,” he said about Harry, motioning to the stairwell.

“Yeah,” Liam agreed. “Good thing I take my vitamins, yeah?”

Zayn scoffed. “Harry takes vitamins, as well, Liam, and he still got sick.”

Liam looked deep in thought for a moment. “Well, yeah, but he’s been busier than all of us lately, hasn’t he? Been doing more, seeing more people. That’s probably how he got a cold in the first place. All that hand-shaking and whatnot.”

Zayn seethed inside, and his muscles clenched involuntarily.  Was it so hard for Liam to just see Zayn’s point of view for once?  To say something like, _“Yeah, you have a point there, Zayn,”_ at the very least?  Not that Liam would ever say that, _no_ , because Liam’s constant insensitive need to be correct completely overruled any outlook Zayn might have.

“I think I’m gonna head out,” Zayn said brashly to nobody in particular, standing up and slowly moving toward the door where he knew he had discarded his jacket last night.

Liam jerked his head at the sentence. “But Niall just got here with the pizza, love,” he said in surprise.  “Aren’t you hungry?”

Of course he’d bloody be thinking about _Niall_. “No,” Zayn answered, figuring he _should_ be hungry but just didn’t feel like eating. “I’m gonna go home…go back to sleep.”

“Oh,” Liam said, “I was trying to let you sleep in here…was I too loud? Do you just want to try to get more sleep here? We can be quieter—”

Zayn shook his head. “I just want my own bed.”

Liam looked a little upset, and after a beat, he asked, “Want me to drive you?”

Again, Zayn shook his suddenly heavy head. “I’m good.”

Liam was worried. “Are you ill? Harry’s not given you what he has, do you think?”

Zayn didn’t have it in him to feign patience anymore as he frustratedly answered, “I’m just fucking _tired_ , Liam, all right?”

“All right…” Liam answered slowly, looking away in slight shock at Zayn’s outburst. “I just asked a question…”  Then his head snapped back to Zayn. “But how are you getting home, then? We took my vehicle last night.”

“I’ll walk.”

“But you just said you’re tired—“

Zayn shrugged. “It’s not far away.”

“Sure, it is, love,” Liam said reasonably.

“It’s, like, a half-hour walk,” Zayn argued.

“And a five-minute drive,” Liam countered nicely.

Zayn closed his eyes, took a huge intake of breath, and exhaled many seconds later. Part of him wanted Liam to _fight_ for it, to prove that Zayn was of the utmost importance, to just make the decision _for_ Zayn and order, _“No, I’m driving, come on,”_ but Liam was only upsetting him more.

Zayn obviously didn’t know _what_ he wanted. So naturally, he said, “Just stay, Liam. I’d like to walk.”

“But…it’s cold outside…”

Zayn sighed. “Liam—just—I’m walking.”

Liam looked utterly lost as he tried to reason with Zayn. Zayn was being rather temperamental— _unusually_ temperamental even for somebody who’d just woken up—and Liam wasn’t sure if he should be taking it personally or not. He hadn’t even been able to properly converse with Zayn this morning at all, had been waiting for Zayn to wake up a bit before hitting him with the heaviness of last night, and here he was pushing him away…

Liam hadn’t done anything wrong, he didn’t think. He scanned his memories for anything that might’ve upset Zayn recently, but he couldn’t think of anything. Despite being intense last night, everything had been great. And afterwards, he’d kissed and cuddled Zayn infinitely, and they’d both fallen asleep content. Even today, Liam let Zayn sleep in for quite a long time just in case he needed extra rest, so…

… _No_ , it couldn’t have been anything Liam had done wrong. Zayn probably just missed his own bed, simple as that. And Liam would check on him later today, and then they’d be able to talk after Zayn was properly rested.

“Okay,” Liam replied at last.

Not wanting an argument, he stepped forward and hugged Zayn. It wasn’t really such a big deal that Zayn wanted to walk home. If Zayn wanted to walk, he could walk. He was an adult. Plus, Liam knew how much Zayn valued his alone-time, and he already fondly pictured the cigarette Zayn would pop into his mouth the second he stepped outside.

“Okay,” Liam repeated, this time with a smile. He gingerly kissed Zayn on the lips before Zayn slipped out of his arms, half-heartedly waved goodbye after putting on his jacket, and was gone.

 

* * *

 

“So did you all— _do stuff_ —last night?” Niall asked Louis once they were both on the sofa, Liam and Zayn now long-gone and Harry dead asleep. The two lads were stuffed with pizza and were now on their third beer each, and since Niall had challenged Louis to a FIFA rematch to make up for _weeks_ ago, Louis was happy to steer Niall to the couch to kick his arse again.

Louis brought his beer up to his lips and smirked around the mouth of the bottle. He was aware that Niall knew about his and Harry’s situation with Zayn and Liam. The other couple had apparently told Niall everything on the night of Liam’s birthday, and though nothing about the arrangement had ever been discussed out in the open since then, Louis felt a bit freer with the knowledge that Niall was finally aware of everything.

“Actually, yes,” Louis answered Niall’s question. “Right where you’re sitting.”

“Mr. Sarcasm,” Niall muttered, picking up his controller.

Louis laughed loudly as he went through the motions of signing in to XBox Live. “I wasn’t being sarcastic, mate.”

Niall sprung off of the couch with a loud noise. “Man, you could’ve told me that before I—“

“Oh, shut up, Niall. We had sheets over everything,” Louis chuckled. “Sit back down.”

Niall assessed the couch cushion, and, deciding it looked clean, lowered himself down again.

“Nice to know how gross you think we are, though,” Louis said, eyes straight-forward on the television.

Niall smacked his lips as he looked ahead. “You _always_ choose Barcelona. And it’s not like I’m tryin’ to sit in your cum, is it,” he continued, scrolling through his players to make various changes on his own squad.  “You wouldn’t want to sit in _mine_ , would ya?”

“I would treat your cum just as civilly as I’d treat my own,” Louis said poshly.

“Don’t even want to know what that means,” Niall muttered. He took a moment to finish his last slice of pizza and drink about half of his beer, and then the game began.

The two played in silence for a while, Louis trying not to be too smug as he took the lead. When Niall paused the game to go for a wee, he was once again reminded as he returned to the sofa that sexual _stuff_ had happened on the very piece of furniture he was sat on, and his mind raced with burning questions.

“So how _does_ that work when you’re all together, like that? Cum would just be everywhere, wouldn’t it?”

Louis smiled.  “Yeah, Niall, it flies around the room. Matter of fact, the walls and furniture are about made of it by now.”

Niall laughed. “No, but really, it’s four of you…So, it’s a lot, right? How…”

“It can be, I reckon,” Louis agreed, standing up. “But, as we’re all into dicks and what comes out of them, none of us seem to mind too much.”

Louis disappeared to get himself and Niall another beer, and Niall continued on with the conversation as if it hadn’t stopped when Louis returned and resumed their football game.

“So… you guys really all have sex with one another? Like swapping partners, all of that?”

“Stop fuckin’—that’s a foul—” Louis yelled, audibly pressing buttons on his controller.  “No, we just—we watch each other, basically—only from time to time—YELLOW CARD!  You fucking suck, Niall, hah ha ha ha hah hah—“

“Your players can’t take a _teeny_ tiny bit of roughness,” Niall complained.

“ _Please_ , you’re blatantly breaking the rules,” Louis retorted. “You can’t just trip my players whenever I get possession of the ball.”

“Which is always,” Niall countered. “You’re not even giving me a _chance_ —“

“Not my fault you chose to play as Ireland.”

Niall rolled his eyes. “So, you don’t swap partners, you said? I don’t follow, then. What…?”

“I told you, we just watch each other. For the most part.” Louis bit his lip in concentration as he approached Niall’s goalie and kicked the ball. “Why?”

“I’m just curious, is all,” Niall said, frowning when Louis scored _again_.

“Loads of questions for somebody who’s just vaguely curious,” Louis laughed, throwing his head back in excitement. “Why don’t you just join us one day, then, and watch? For examination purposes, like.”

Niall rolled his eyes both at the ridiculous score (4-0) _and_ at what Louis had just said.  “ _Examination purposes_ ,” Niall said as he made air-quotes with one hand. 

That proved to be a mistake, however, for when Niall’s hand left the controller, Louis again took possession of the ball, leaving Niall furiously hitting buttons and cursing when Louis scored again.

“ _Yes_!” Louis yelled. “Fuckin’ _right_!”

Louis leaned back on the sofa and kicked his legs out in victory.

“This is brutal. I’m giving up,” Niall said, dropping his controller and switching the television over to live football.

“It’s good to be me,” Louis sighed, putting his entwined fingers behind his head and smiling. “But anyway,” he continued, vaguely paying attention to the bad football clubs on the screen, “I was just joking, but if you’re so curious about it and all, you _could_ just watch sometime, I guess.”

Niall was taken aback. He had still been unsure of whether or not Louis had even been serious when mentioning that, but that— _that_ was an open invitation he’d just been given, wasn’t it?

“I’m not— _no_ , it’s not like that,” Niall said.  “It’s just, like—it’s already you lot’s established _thing_ , isn’t it?  Be weird if I just suddenly popped in one day and just _watched_ you all….”

Louis finished his beer and smacked his lips. “Mate, the whole thing started in the first place by us watching each other, yeah? It’s safe to say we all quite like it.”

Niall finished his beer, as well, and just quietly said, “Oh.”

It was awkwardly silent for a bit as Louis contemplated what he’d actually just offered to Niall, and he frowned.  “I don’t know, actually,” Louis said quietly. “There’s a lot of stuff we all do that might not be considered… _normal_ , per sey, so I don’t…” 

“What? Like you use whips and chains and stuff?” Niall joked.

“Or paddles and cock-cages,” Louis quietly corrected. Niall gave him an incredulous look then, eyes wide and mouth comically agape, and Louis’ own eyes grew bigger. He covered his mouth. “Oh, _oops_ —”

“ _Really_?”

Louis just diverted his eyes while badly hiding a smile.

“Is that why you’re sat on a pillow?”

Louis genuinely smiled then, still not saying anything but letting his actions talk for him. Speaking of his arse, he stood up then, and his rear-end throbbed. He realized he needed more cream when suddenly, he heard violent sneezing from upstairs, and he realized how late it’d gotten.

“I should check on Harry.”

“Go on,” Niall said, standing up, as well. “I’m gonna head out.”

Louis couldn’t really meet Niall’s eyes for some reason.  “Okay. Yeah. Well, thanks for the pizza.”

“Anytime,” Niall replied, sticking his hands in his pockets.

Louis was still looking at anything but Niall, but then he figured, _why is this awkward?_   _It’s_ _Niall_. 

Louis finally fixed his gaze on Niall and took a step closer to him. The bit of alcohol Louis had drunk took over as he expressively hugged Niall, right around his waist, surprising the blond.  Niall slowly lifted his hands up to hug Louis, too.

“Look, we’d have to talk to everyone about it first, I reckon,” Louis said after backing out of the hug.  “Gauge their thoughts and comfort level. But none of this, and I really mean this, _none_ of this was ever meant to leave you out of anything. And we’re really sorry if you feel, or if you’ve ever felt, left out.  We just have never wanted to freak you out because…well…because we’re… _gay_.”  Louis began laughing in earnest then. “We’re all gay as hell.”

Niall smiled in return and bit his lip. “Wouldn’t freak me out…You’d be okay with it, though? You think everyone else’ll be okay with it?  It’s just—I guess I just want to see what the big deal is, that’s all.”

Louis held up his hands. “You don’t have to give me your reasons. The more, the merrier!”

Niall raised an eyebrow. “Is that what everyone thinks, though? You think they’d really be okay with that?”

“I don’t see why they wouldn’t. I’m more worried about whether _you’d_ be okay with it.”

“No—yeah. I’d be okay with it, yeah. It’d just be a one-time thing,” Niall clarified.

“Sure,” Louis responded with a smirk.  “I really need to check on Harry now.  You can see yourself out, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Niall smiled. “Bye, Lou.”

“Later, Niall.” 

And Louis walked upstairs feeling very excited and very weird.

 

* * *

 

Zayn had walked home angry and had arrived there unstable. The music he listened to during his trek home was melancholy, and that only put him in an even more miserable state-of-mind. 

Life was shit. Everything Zayn knew was shit.

His tears fell fluidly as soon as he was safe from being seen by the public, the kind of tears that trailed from the corners of his eyes so easily he didn’t even realize he was crying, and really, what difference did it even make when he had no real justification for why they were even there in the first place?

After ripping off his clothes indoors, he immediately stomped into his shower and burned his skin from the temperature of the water and from the force with which he scrubbed his skin.  He felt ugly.  A deep, deep embarrassment sat uncomfortably with him, and water wouldn’t wash it away, tears wouldn’t wash it away, Liam wouldn’t wash it away.

Zayn curled up in his bed with skin still wet, and the tears that he’d been blinking away up until that point became thick and sloppy with the sudden sobs that sharply tore from his throat.

It was hard for him to go to sleep with the loud thoughts in his head and the loud noises escaping his mouth, but somehow he fell unconscious, anyway, after finally giving up on the belief that Liam would soon walk through the bedroom door.

 

* * *

 

The feeling of something prodding in his mouth awoke Harry late that evening.  Louis had a thermometer shoved under Harry’s tongue, and he was staring intently at the end of it as Harry’s eyes opened and he groaned.

“What’re you doin’?” Harry rasped, the thermometer falling to his chest as his mouth moved.

“Stay still for a moment.”

Harry took quick possession of the thermometer before Louis’ nimble hands could reclaim it.  “I. Just. Have. A. Cold.”

“And a possible fever!” Louis argued while fighting to get the thermometer back.

Harry’s head pounded as he extended his arm well out of Louis’ reach.  He knew Louis meant well, but Harry wasn’t seriously ill and _certainly_ didn’t have a fever.  Louis really was doing too much.

“Baby,” Harry said, putting his free hand on Louis’ chest to keep him from lunging on the bed in pursuit of the thermometer, “this isn’t necessary.”

Louis whined.  “You still feel warm, Harry, and I just want to make sure. That’s all, okay? I just want to make sure.  _Please_ just let me—”

However much Harry wanted to roll his eyes at Louis, he humored his boyfriend and opened his mouth.  He stared at Louis for a long time while Louis played nurse, and he even managed to find the serious way Louis looked at the thermometer while it was hanging out of his mouth endearing.

“Now take these,” Louis said when he’d pulled the stick out from under Harry’s tongue.  He held out his palm to show Harry two little white pills.

Harry frowned. “What’s that, then?”

“Just more paracetamol.  For your fever.”

“’S not a fever,” Harry grumbled.

“It’s higher than it should be,” Louis briskly countered as he dumped the pills in Harry’s hand, “and that is the definition of a fever.”

“My temperature runs high all the time,” Harry argued.  Regardless, he tossed the pills into his mouth, finding that the congestion in his head was actually giving him a horrible headache. Louis held out his teacup for him, and Harry drank from it with a nasty face— _blurgh, cold tea_ —before collapsing back onto his pillow.

Louis brushed the fringe out of Harry’s eyes. “I think you need to see a doctor.”

“I’ve told you no,” Harry replied, rolling over onto his side. “’S jussa cold.”

“And a doctor could give you proper medicine to help you get rid of it quicker, Harry.”

Harry groaned, and Louis tapped his shoulder.

“Roll back over for me. You can go to sleep again after you take this decongestant, yeah?”

“ _Louis_ ,” Harry whined. “No.”

“You’re not gonna wanna feel like this tomorrow, are you? You have a phone interview with that radio station at noon, and _then_ —“

“ _And_ after I get a good night’s sleep, I know I’ll feel better, so—“

“Would you please just take this?” Louis cut Harry off. “Come on, _please?”_

Harry rolled over and frowned at the second set of pills in Louis’ hand. “Not tryin’ to overload my body with—”

Louis cut Harry off again.  “Harry, I swear to God, I will literally shove them down your throat if you don’t take them.  _Please_ just do it? For me?”

Harry hated seeing that look on Louis’ face, and he wanted it gone, so he nodded with a little sigh. “ _Yes_ ,” he gave in. “For you I will, Lou.”

 

* * *

 

Liam frowned at his phone.  Zayn hadn’t returned a single text all day. Obviously, Zayn had said that he was going home because he was tired, but sleeping literally _all day_ after sleeping for as long as Zayn already _had_ the night before was a bit much. Zayn was the type who normally slept a lot, sure, but he only slept so excessively if he was jet-lagged or feeling poorly. Liam didn’t like the looks of it.

After his third phone call went unanswered, Liam put on his jacket and drove to Zayn’s house.

When he let himself inside, it was quiet; the lights were off, and no noise came from the television…no noise came from anything or anyone at all. Liam took the stairs two-at-a-time and barged into Zayn’s room without knocking, and his fears were confirmed as he switched on a nearby lamp. Though sleeping, Zayn looked like Harry had earlier: red, puffy eyelids, red nose, pale face. The multiple tissues scattered on Zayn’s nightstand only confirmed Liam’s thoughts.

Zayn had gotten sick, too.

Liam crouched down beside Zayn’s side of the bed and put a gentle hand on his arm, shaking it softly to rouse him.  Zayn blinked heavily, eyes burning from the sudden, bright light, and when he saw Liam, he knew he must be dreaming.

“Hi,” Liam said softly while running his thumb along Zayn’s cheekbone. Zayn looked miserable, and it hurt Liam to see.

Zayn didn’t reply because what did that matter in dreams, anyway, but he continued to stare into Liam’s eyes, hoping to find some type of forgiveness there for not being a good enough boyfriend for him.

“Have you been sleeping all day?” was what he got instead.

Even Dream-Liam thought he slept too much, so Zayn just closed his eyes again and melted back onto his pillow. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he could willfully steer his dream to a more cheerful path, a path where Liam was happy with him again.

Liam shook Zayn’s arm once more, worried.  After Zayn groused and finally decided to just pinch himself, he opened an eye and murmured, “You’re…really here.”

Liam smiled in confusion. “Yeah, of course I’m here.  How’re you feeling, sweetheart? Haven’t heard from you all day.”

There was another accusation. Zayn stretched and yawned. “Was sleeping,” he answered darkly.

Liam noticed that Zayn’s voice sounded thick. “Have you taken medicine?”

 _What?_ Was Liam implying he’d doped himself up or something so he’d sleep? He knew that Liam sometimes worried that he smoked too much weed, but _that_ was a ridiculous accusation. Zayn realized quickly that he wasn’t going to get _any_ comfort from Liam, so he asked in genuine curiosity, “What are you even doing here?”

Liam blanched at the way Zayn asked the question, like Liam wasn’t wanted.  “I was worried... You haven’t answered my texts.”

Another accusation. They were beginning to stick to Zayn like velcro, and each one only proved further that Liam wasn’t happy with him. Zayn felt awful in his own skin. He frowned deeper and pulled the covers up over his face.

Liam pulled them down just as quickly. “Babe, come on. What’s going on?”

Zayn reached for the covers again, quickly covering up his naked and cold body and avoiding Liam’s question.

“Have you even eaten today?” Liam asked in concern.

“What the fuck _can’t_ I do wrong?” Zayn suddenly burst out, his words warbled with his accent and the sudden tickling in the back of his throat.

Liam was majorly taken aback, and his voice went up a few octaves when he noticed Zayn’s tears. “Whoa, _Zayn_ , baby, why are you crying?”

“You’re being mean to me,” Zayn bawled, rolling over onto his stomach.

“I—what? How?—No, I’m not!” Liam retorted, now sat on the edge of the bed as best as he could in order to be closer to Zayn. Liam tried to roll his boyfriend over, but Zayn fought against it. Liam made his voice as sweet as he could to try to make Zayn feel better. “Asking if you’ve eaten? I want to know if you’ve eaten because you say you’re tired, and you’re obviously sick, and if you haven’t eaten then that would probably make you feel worse, so I just want to know. That’s it! That’s all, Zayn.”

Zayn hid his face in his pillow, but Liam could still hear him cry. He tried shaking him to roll him over again, but Zayn still wouldn’t move. It was mental. 

“Zayn, wh-what? What can I do? I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings...or something…and I’m sorry that you’re feeling so poorly, but I just want to help…”

“Go away,” Zayn mumbled. “I’m stupid, so just fucking leave.”

Liam couldn’t hear anything Zayn was saying, so he leaned down closer to him. “What was that, love?” he asked.

“Just _leave_!” Zayn shouted into his pillow. 

 _That_ Liam heard.

“I—Why do you—What have I even done? Why are you acting so angry with me?” Liam asked, his voice raised a bit now in the confusion of the moment.

“Leave—me— _alooooone_ ,” Zayn wailed, now crying again.

“Why?! Because I asked if you’ve eaten anything today? I don’t get it!”

Zayn’s head rose from the pillow just so he could look at Liam with red eyes and yell, “ _LEAVE_!”

It shocked Liam a bit that Zayn could call _him_ mean when Zayn was being massively foul himself.  Liam threw his arms in the air and stood up. When had things escalated so quickly?

“What the _fuck_ ,” Liam muttered to himself while reluctantly walking down the stairs. He’d never seen Zayn act quite like that before, not _sober_ , and he didn’t know how to handle it.

He tried to make the most sense out of the situation that he could. 

Maybe Zayn was feeling so poorly that he didn’t even want Liam to see him in that state…  Maybe Liam had asked too many questions and was being a bother…  Maybe Zayn was earnestly sleep-deprived and just being moody…  Maybe Zayn missed his family, maybe Zayn was stressed, maybe Zayn had gotten _too_ much sleep…

Liam had no clue. He just knew Zayn didn’t want him there anymore, had been able to discern his boyfriend’s dismissal quite clearly.  But still—Zayn was _sick_ , and it hurt Liam to leave knowing Zayn wasn’t feeling well. 

Liam moved around in the very-familiar kitchen downstairs until he found snacks and drinks Zayn liked, stopped in the hallway bathroom to grab a bunch of medicine (since he was almost positive Zayn hadn’t taken anything yet), and then walked upstairs and re-entered Zayn’s bedroom.

Placing all the items on Zayn’s nightstand, Liam talked to Zayn’s back. “I put medicine and food for you here on the table,” he said quietly. “Are you sure—do you not want to talk about it? You still want me to go?”

Zayn figured that if Liam really wanted to stay, he’d just do so, so Zayn just shrugged.

Liam nodded, staring at the floor. “Just—please feel better,” he said dejectedly as he turned away.  “I’ll talk to you tomorrow…”

 

* * *

 

It was late—very late—and Harry was in the middle of a bad dream.  One of the many reasons he hated taking lots of medicine was that it negatively affected the images he saw when he slept. He wouldn’t really consider them _nightmares_ , but the dreams were bad enough to disturb him, and currently, a village he lived in had caught on fire, and he was frantically looking for Louis while running door-to-door to warn his neighbors. He twitched in his sleep.

Unable to sleep, Louis was downstairs. Since Harry had finally taken his medicine, Louis had been able to relax a little, however, so he finished the leftover pizza from Niall and smoothed more lotion onto his bum while loafing on the sofa.

He’d been alternating between jotting down lyrics in his notebook and watching mindless telly when he finally realized it was well after midnight and jolted upright. Wanting to see if Harry’s temperature had dropped at all, Louis trotted upstairs and noticed that Harry was stirring a bit as he approached the bed.

“You’ve gotta hide,” Harry whispered out into the dim room.

Louis stepped closer to his boyfriend.  “Huh?”

“He’s burned everything,” Harry continued.  “He’s coming…”

“Jesus, Harry, you’re hallucinating,” Louis whispered.

Now freaking out, he quickly took Harry’s temperature again, but Louis was confused when it was actually lower than it had been before.  That was a good thing, he supposed, but why was Harry acting so delusional?

Louis rushed downstairs to find his mobile and phoned a familiar contact.

He was prepared to reach his mum’s voicemail, but she answered on the last ring, immediately jumping to negative conclusions. “Darling, it’s almost two in the morning—what’s wrong?”

Knowing that his mum worked unpredictable shifts, Louis had a habit of ringing her late at night—or early, _early_ in the morning—whenever he was away from Harry and the boys or whenever he was simply lonely, and she was always prepared for him to be upset or vulnerable whenever he called.

“Oh, _Mum_ , you’re awake, great,” Louis rushed out. “Listen, how bad can a cold get before you’ve got to be hospitalized?”

Jay was a little taken aback by the question. “I— _Hospitalized_? What? Are you ill?”

“No, Harry is. How bad can a cold get before it’s, like, something serious? He doesn’t really have a fever anymore, but he’s speaking utter nonsense and I’m freaking out.”

“Okay, calm down,” Jay said steadily. “You say he doesn’t have a fever?”

“No,” Louis said.

“Hmm…maybe he’s just dehydrated.”

“I’ve been trying to make sure he drinks enough, though,” Louis answered with a bit of anxiety.

“What’s he been drinking?”

“Well, tea, mostly.”

“…Just tea?”

“Yeah, that’s what he likes. It helps his throat.”

“Right. Well…make sure it’s not the strong tea you’re fond of. Water it down more, put some honey in it. Or have him just try juice or plain water from now on—that’s what I always do.”

“Shit!” Louis scurried to fill a glass with juice, topping it off with a straw. “ _Why haven’t I given him juice_ , what is _wrong_ with me,” he muttered to himself.

“Well, of course nothing’s wrong with you, boo,” Jay consoled. “No need to punish yourself over this. Just make sure he takes small sips regularly. And it can’t hurt to have him still drink tea, though. You’ve done good by giving him tea.”

“Okay,” Louis said, feeling only a tad bit better, “but still, he was having delusions earlier, Mum—and that’s bad, innit?”

“Delusions? With a cold? Maybe he’s just tired,” Jay reassured, trying to soothe her son.

“Well, yeah, he keeps saying he is, but he’s literally been sleeping _all day_ —“

“Sweetheart, you’re talking too fast. Calm down.”

“I am calm,” Louis responded quickly.

“Sure, you are.”

Louis could hear his mum’s smile through the phone and couldn’t help but laugh at himself. “Seriously, though, wouldn’t that worry you? You go to talk to your boyfriend and he’s speaking rubbish?”

Jay was silent for a moment. “Well…didn’t you say he talks in his sleep a lot?”

“Er, yeah…” Louis reluctantly admitted.

“He’ll be okay,” she chuckled. “Just make sure he takes some medicine…cough drops…gets his rest…stuff like that. If it’s just a cold like you say it is, he’ll be fine soon.”

Louis exhaled the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Minus the cough drops, he was doing everything else already. He was doing a good job. He shakily said, “Okay.”

“It’s so sweet to see you worrying like this over him, darling,” his mother said fondly.

“Yeah, well,” Louis responded quietly. “I love him. And he’s…” 

What _was_ Harry, exactly? Important? The best? Louis’ _everything_?

“He’s family,” Jay supplanted.

Louis smiled. “Yes.He’s family.”

Speaking with his mother made Louis feel loads better, and after thanking her profusely and sending her and the girls all of his love, he ran upstairs again and shook Harry’s arm with too much energy.

“Harry, baby, get up.”

“Whaaat,” Harry said into his pillow.

“I’d very much like to sleep with you tonight, so I need to switch the sheets,” Louis whispered into Harry’s ear. “And we need to get you into the bath.”

Harry rolled over and squinted at Louis. “You’re a very beautiful boy,” he whispered, suddenly overwhelmed with how the faint light from the lamp shaded Louis’ cheekbones.

Louis pressed the palms of his hands over his eyes. “Thank you. You are, too.”

Harry’s voice was so raspy that Louis had to bend down close to Harry in order to hear him say, “ _Beautiful_.”

Louis just sighed and pulled the still-dirty covers away from Harry’s body.  “Always the charmer. Look, I say this out of love, but you really ought to brush your teeth and take a bath. Let’s get you up so I can—“

Harry shook his head as he tried to steal the covers back from Louis. He groaned when Louis threw the duvet on the floor instead.

“Honey, the bed’s _filthy_. I’ve gotta get you in the bath so I can switch the sheets out.”

Harry groaned again. 

“Come on, up, up, up! I’ll do all the work and everything. All you’ve got to do is sit in the water.”

Harry’s voice was positively bass-like with his illness. “It’s just a cold. I’ve taken medicine for the fever.  I’m drinking the juice.” Harry lifted the glass Louis had just put on his nightstand and took a few sips out of it through a straw. “See? I’m drinking the juice. I’ll feel better in the morning. I just need to sleep.”

Louis knew that Harry actually needed to get out of the bed for at least a little bit; he’d literally been lying in it all day.  And, underneath Harry’s sweat-damp clothes, he was probably still covered in dried-up sweat and cum.

“You can manage to make it a few more minutes without sleeping. You need to get up for a bit. You stink,” Louis said bluntly.

“ _You_ stink,” Harry retorted. Still, he lifted his upper body off the bed and swung his legs over to the floor, coughing as he did so.

 

* * *

 

Liam had left. Liam had left. Liam had left.

And what made no sense was that Zayn had been the person to tell him to leave. What made no sense was that more than anything or anybody in the world, Zayn needed Liam. Zayn looked at the stupid bottle of cough syrup beside him and threw it firmly away from the bed, splattering the wall with its sticky, rancid insides.

“ _Fuck_!” he yelled, screaming out into his room, screaming because that was all he could do.

Mechanically, Zayn walked to his special dresser drawer where he always kept his stash of weed, and he turned on the television and smoked until the sun came up.

 

* * *

 

Harry bunched his knees up to his chest as he sat in the water shivering. “This is an awful experience.  Completely unnecessary.”

Louis couldn’t hide his chuckle. The water wasn’t even cold. It just wasn’t _hot_ like Harry fancied, and Louis knew that any excess heat from Harry’s body was leaving, so that made him feel better. “Just a couple more minutes, love. Tilt your head back for me?”

Harry did so, chest rumbling with coughs as he tried to laugh. “Washing my hair?”

“Yes,” Louis said simply. And he did. And he washed Harry’s arms and legs and feet and knees and back and stomach, too. The two boys even brushed their teeth side-by-side after Louis was satisfied that Harry was clean.

With his hair wrapped up in a big towel, Harry asked despite all the toothpaste in his mouth, “How’s your bottom?”

Louis spit in the sink. “Getting better. I put more stuff on it just earlier.”

“I don’t like that,” Harry said as he rinsed his mouth and walked out of the bathroom.

Louis followed him. “Don’t like what?”

“That you had to do it yourself.” Harry removed the towel from his head and dropped it to the floor while Louis scurried in front of him, re-making the bed with clean sheets as Harry put on pajamas.

“It’s fine,” Louis answered. He sat in bed first, sighing at the smell and feel of the new sheets, and he pulled the blanket back on the right side of the bed for Harry to get in, as well.

Harry had a few moments of serenity as he fell back into bed. “This absolutely sucks. I hate being sick.”

Louis lifted the blanket over Harry and then reached across Harry’s body to switch off the lamp. “Shh, rest your throat.”

“Shouldn’t have to wait on me like this,” Harry said, ignoring Louis’ concern. “Have you eaten today?”

Louis nodded. “Niall brought pizza over, remember? You want some real quick?”

“No, I’ve been nibbling on snacks here and there. Just brushed my teeth, anyway.”

Louis hummed in reply.

Harry seemed to have newfound energy from his bath. “I can’t believe it’s three in the morning. You didn’t have to stay up this late _bathing_ me.”

“You’ve slept almost the entire day away,” Louis murmured while nestling in behind Harry and wrapping his arms around him.  “And for the _one-hundredth_ time, I like taking care of you.”

Harry looked positively grumpy. “Your arse is _bruised_ , and I can barely get in and out of bed without coughing up a lung—let alone give you the proper care you need—and I still wanna talk about everything that happened last night—“

“Last night was fucking amazing, and I feel important and loved,” Louis answered curtly.  “Now _please_ , for the love of God, would you stop talking so much and just rest?  You’ll have no voice at all in the morning if you keep it up.” 

Harry grabbed Louis’ wrist and wiggled a bit so that he faced the smaller boy.  Louis was an angel, his own personal nurse from a dream.  “I wish I could kiss you.”

“ _Anddd_ this is how we always get sick at the same time,” Louis said, backing his head away.

Harry stuck out his tongue.

“Your hair’s all wet,” Louis noticed with a frown.

Harry turned his body back around, and Louis resituated himself behind him. “We are _not_ blow-drying it again if that’s what you’re trying to say. Last time we did that, I—“

Louis sighed. _“Go to sleep.”_

“You go to sleep,” Harry said huffily.

And so they did, with Louis slotted behind Harry’s long body, arms and legs wrapped around him in any way he could manage.

 

* * *

 

A couple of busy days passed. 

Harry seemed to get over the worst of his condition, but unfortunately, Zayn hadn’t.  He had to work in a fog of depression but pretend like he was focused.  He had to act like everything was normal with him, but inside, there was still something rotten underneath his skin, something dirty, something _not right_.

Sadly, it seemed that Liam had been tip-toeing around Zayn ever since their little row, almost appearing afraid of him, and Zayn hated it. 

He hated it, yes, but it still confirmed his belief that he just wasn’t what Liam wanted.

After working another exhausting day full of car-trips and singing and talking and signing things, Liam invited Zayn over for dinner. Something inside of Zayn flickered at that, like he was finally getting the chance to be alone with Liam like he so desperately craved, but it died just as soon as it had flared; he knew he would probably just ruin things because he truly had no energy left inside him to even _try_ to impress Liam.

The couple sat at the dining room table at Liam’s home, a complicated dish that Liam had prepared in front of each of them, and it was awkward.  

It was awkward because they hadn’t slept next to one another in days—hadn’t even casually hung out at each other’s houses together, either. They certainly hadn’t been _alone_ in the same room together since last week, and all Zayn could think about was _disappointment_ and _shame_ and _self_ - _hatred_ in an endless flux of bad-sad-mad feelings.

Zayn had barely touched his supper, had barely spoken, and small talk wasn’t getting Liam anywhere.  He’d tried asking how Zayn’s family had been since he hadn’t heard Zayn speak about them lately, if he was feeling better since coming down with that mini-cold, even tried making a few stupid jokes, but nothing. He couldn’t get Zayn to cheer up. It was like Zayn was a different person.

Liam sighed heavily. He hated to ruin the night and bring it up, but—“We should probably talk about the other night.”

Zayn’s head popped up. “What night?”

“When we got in the argument,” Liam answered. 

He wasn’t sure if “argument” was even the correct term to use, but he had been confused about Zayn’s behavior ever since, and they needed to talk about it.

Zayn just lowered his head again.

“I just…I just want things to be good again,” Liam said earnestly.  “I want… _us_ to be good again.”

While Zayn remained silent, Liam continued slowly, “I can’t lie…I’m not really sure what I’ve done… But I’m very sorry. I just—I want to know what’s actually upsetting you so I know not to do it again.” 

Liam looked up wishfully, like he hoped with his whole stupid heart that he hadn’t made that sound like utter rubbish, and Zayn didn’t know what to say. He wanted to rip his skin open and fly away.

“Zayn, come _on_ ,” Liam pleaded, leaning forward and desperately grabbing one of Zayn’s hands.  His eyes were sweet and bright, if only Zayn would just meet them with his own to notice that.  “Just tell me _what it is?_ ”

Zayn kept his hand limp inside Liam’s as he continued gazing at his plate of uneaten food.  He had almost given up on explaining anything to Liam because, honestly, so many thoughts had been entering and leaving his mind within the past few days that he didn’t even know _what_ was wrong anymore.  Besides the obvious fact that he wasn’t what Liam really wanted, and Liam was just too behind to realize that fact.

Zayn was just depressed.

He was _depressed_ , and it had gotten to the point where the depression was turning into an actual source of comfort for him since nothing else was, like he was dependent now on feeling so gloomy, and how more morbid could he get?

Zayn answered honestly, “I-I don’t know, Liam.”

There was a pause. Liam dropped his fork. “Bullshit.”

That made Zayn wince, and he pulled his hand out of Liam’s. The sound of his chair scraping wood as he stood up was the only thing to be heard in the quiet dining room, and in despondency, Liam watched Zayn begin to walk away.

“Zayn, _sorry_ , but that _is_ bullshit. You keep saying that, and it’s obviously not true. You’re keeping something from me. How can I—how can I help if you never talk to me about it?”

Zayn paused at the threshold of the room. He didn’t know how he could fix any of this, if it was even reparable. He just wasn’t right for Liam, would never be able to be good enough for Liam. “I’ve tried. I’ve told you. I just feel bad.”

Liam threw the napkin in his lap onto the table and stood up loudly. “I get that you feel bad, but, like, I’m genuinely _worried_ about you, and you keep pushing me away. You _never_ act like this when you just ‘feel bad,’ Zayn.”

“That’s the only word I know to use,” Zayn said with a bit of defensiveness.  “Look, you just don’t understand—”

Liam walked closer to Zayn and begged fiercely, “Then _make me_ understand. _What can I do?_ What can I do to help?”

“Just—just stop being mean to me,” Zayn answered meekly.

Liam’s eyebrows furrowed. “There you go again with that. _How_ am I being mean?”

“It’s in your tone.”

 _“It’s in my tone?”_ Liam repeated, disbelieving. What was Zayn _talking about?_ He had been nothing but his normal, sweet self!

“Now you’re mocking me.”

Liam’s breath began to heighten.  “Zayn, I’m seriously not. I just—you’re confusing me so much. All week— _all week_ —you’ve been shutting me out. I get that you feel bad, but this is beyond that. This just isn’t healthy. Why are you distancing yourself so much from me? What have I done? Like, I cooked this meal especially for you, and I’m _trying_ to talk things out between us, and it’s like you don’t even—”

“You know what?” Zayn interrupted. “You’re right. You’re completely right. I’m unappreciative of this meal, I suck at this relationship, I just suck at everything, and I don’t deserve you.”

Thinking Zayn was being sarcastic for the sake of passively avoiding a confrontation, Liam took a deep, heavy breath. “Why are you acting like this?” he asked after a long, uncomfortable silence. It seemed the question would never be answered, but Liam had to keep asking.  He had to know. “You’re just walking away again. _Why?_ Why aren’t you _talking_ to me?”

Zayn felt his bottom lip quiver, and _no_ , he wasn’t going to do this again.  He wasn’t going to keep letting Liam see him so unstable, not when Liam was so very close to chucking him as it was. He turned away, sprinted to the door, and slammed it loudly behind him, running out into the steadily-falling rain.

 

* * *

 

Harry was stood in the kitchen watching pasta boil when Louis approached him quietly from behind.  Literally, it had only been three full days since Harry had gotten sick, but since then, there had been no kissing, no fooling around, and _especially_ no sex between the two, and the lack of intimacy had made the time stretch out painfully longer for Louis.

Cuddling at night was great, but… Louis wanted more.

And he had voiced his wants. Many times. Harry had been saying nosince yesterday, though, and he wasn’t wavering. He said he seriously didn’t want Louis to catch his cold and that they needed to wait a bit longer to let Louis’ body recuperate, anyway.

But now, Louis’s own body knew what it needed.

It was almost dinner-time, and Louis currently had his third spontaneous hard-on of the day. Sure, he still felt some residual soreness from the last time he and Harry fucked, but, as he was so magnetized to Harry, that didn’t change anything. He still desired Harry madly, still craved Harry’s touch, still had some part of him that wished Harry was inside him always.

He was determined to get what he wanted this time, not just think rubbish thoughts until his dick painfully went down in his pants.

At the stove, Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist and rested his cheek in between Harry’s sharp shoulder blades. Louis and Harry were both shirtless, and Louis sighed at the warmth of being skin-to-skin as he pressed his body in close to Harry.

Acting oblivious to Louis, Harry asked when he felt a very hard bulge against the back of his leg, “Oh, Zayn? Is that you?”

“Try again,” Louis responded instantly as he tilted his pelvis up.

Harry smirked and turned around. He was chewing gum, and something about the way his jaw moved made him look cocky. “Something you want, love?”

“You,” Louis answered straight away in his most sultry voice, standing on his tip-toes to lick up the side of Harry’s throat. Louis’ fingers brushed up Harry’s abs as he placed a few kisses around Harry’s Adam’s apple, and Harry badly contained his groan.

“Babe, you know—“

“I know, I know, you don’t want me to get sick,” Louis muttered against Harry’s throat. “Still want you, though…”

The pot of water behind the pair boiled loudly, and Harry reached behind him to turn off the burner. He then found Louis’ little hands and lightly swung them around inside his own.

“And in what way might you want me?” Harry asked with a smile.

“I might want you in all the ways,” Louis responded. Again, he tilted his hips forward and pressed his cock against the front of Harry’s black jeans.

Harry took a miniscule step back. He was a little conflicted about going forward with this.  “ _Lou_ ,” he admonished. 

“ _Harry_ , we haven’t even kissed in _days_ ,” Louis lamented, leaning his upper body into Harry’s chest. “Not properly…”

Harry’s voice took on a bit of a mischievous quality. “Then what are you proposing?”

“I am proposing that you fix that,” Louis answered hopefully. He looked up at Harry and chewed on his lower lip. _Please work, please work._

“I could get you sick,” Harry said, half-authentically and half-teasing.

“It’s a bit too late for that now, innit?” Louis sighed and tried to put on his best pout. His dick throbbed in his trackies. “Feel how hard I am, Harry. Just _feel_.”

“I can,” Harry said, bumping his hips forward and down to match pelvises with Louis. His hands fell from Louis’ in favor of holding onto Louis’ hips instead. “Very well, I can.”

Harry still wasn’t _doing_ anything, though, so Louis put his tiny fingers atop Harry’s at his own waist and made Harry pull on the elastic of his visible boxers. Underneath, Louis’ purple panties were just barely exposed, and at the sight, Harry barely uttered, “ _Fuck_.”

After a second, Louis moved Harry’s fingers away again and smiled as his boxers snapped back in place and covered his knickers back up.

Harry swallowed. He himself had _bought_ those panties for Louis, and now Louis was wearing them _for him._ Fuck. Unevenly, he muttered Louis’ name, and Louis was giddy and just about convinced that he was about to get fucked when Harry shook his head.

Louis’ demeanor changed then, and he looked seriously upset.

"I'm not saying no," Harry quickly said, squeezing Louis’ slight love-handles. “I’m just saying we’ll have to—we’ll have to do things by my rules.”

 _Oh_.

Louis smiled again. “And when is anything ever not by your rules, Mr. Styles?”

“Very—good—point,” Harry said in between little kisses behind Louis’ ear. It was amazing how hard he could get so quickly just in response to seeing Louis in panties, but really, it wasn’t even about the underwear. It was more the fact that Louis wanted this, wanted it badly enough to beg for days, to wear the panties for him, to come and _beg_ for Harry to do something about his horniness.

And Harry caved.

“Upstairs, on the bed, hands and knees,” Harry ordered. “Wait there until I come for you, be quiet, and don’t look at anything but the headboard until I tell you otherwise. Got it?”

Louis nodded happily.

"Good boy," Harry murmured, and the rush down Louis’ spine was enough instant gratification and positive reinforcement that Louis immediately scrambled to obey.

At the foot of the stairs, he turned around. “Clothes on or off?”

Harry smiled. “Off, please.”

Though his jeans were now painfully tight, Harry took a few extra minutes draining the pasta and placing it inside the refrigerator for later. Throughout the span of his relationship with Louis, entirely too much food had been ruined at the hands of impulsive sex.

Plus, Harry also accepted the fact that he got off to the thought of Louis upstairs waiting for him, _squirming_ for him, so he took his time.

He even made himself a drink.

Leisurely, he found a tumbler glass and, though he hadn’t even eaten yet, poured a bit of scotch inside.  He sipped it and smacked his mouth. Some (like Louis) would say the taste was strong and nasty, but he quite liked it, and he made his way upstairs licking his lips.

Harry found Louis silent on the mattress in exactly the position he was told to take, except he hadn’t quite undressed all the way. Though his purple knickers were no longer in place, Louis was still wearing them; they were just bunched at the crevice of his bended knees, a little bit of wetness visible on the inside. Harry’s breath stuttered—both at the fact that Louis’ cock was leaking so much that it had left _evidence_ and upon seeing the lingering redness on his arse—but he didn’t comment, and he slowly walked to the corner of the room.

Louis had been waiting for ages. He made sure that his breathing (though now coming out in shallow, quick puffs) was quiet so that Harry would be satisfied upon entering the room, and when he heard Harry’s footsteps approach, he arched his back and prettily stuck out his bum more.

Louis couldn’t see much, and in response, his hearing amplified. Every little noise was loud in the silence of the room, and Louis recognized each of them. Harry’s bodily movements were muffled as he presumably sat in the corner chair. A glass of some sort clouted the table by the side window. The metallic clank of a belt. The buzz of a zipper.  The shuffling of tight clothes sliding along skin.

All of the sounds signified that Harry was disrobing, but Louis knew not to look back. He wouldn’t move his head and disobey Harry like that. His eyes burned as they fixated only ahead of him, his desperate body posed perfectly still—only for Harry. Only for him, just for Harry.

Then Louis heard the _snick_ of a bottle being opened, and, thinking it was for him, his breath hitched. So as not to fidget, he focused raptly on his breathing—in, _out_ , in _out_ —and the way the beating of his heart made his cock steadily pulsate. He wanted to whimper so badly already for Harry’s warmth.

A few silent moments passed where Louis could only guess what Harry was doing, could only assume that he had stood up, had quietly gotten behind Louis, was about to touch his quivering hole—

But instead, the loud and quaky sound of Harry’s breathing was all Louis heard, and Louis swallowed because he knew what that noise meant.

By now, Louis was very aware of what Harry looked and sounded like when he was deeply aroused.  He could easily picture Harry’s sex-eyes and wide nostrils and the barely-there flush of his face that would always turn hard yet _soft_ at the same time, the way he would try to keep his breathing quiet but would always end up loudly panting before too long.

And also by now, Louis was very aware of what it sounded like when Harry played with himself.

He knew what it sounded like already, but he very much wished he could see it.

After making himself slick, Harry spread his legs wider and just watched the bed while touching his cock.  He wasn’t even jacking it, just idly palming himself, and he took another sip of his drink as he barely noticed Louis’ leg twitch.

Granted, Louis was actually being really good.

Harry knew that Louis wanted to whine, but there he was instead, holding his body as motionless as he could for Harry, keeping his mouth completely silent.

He deserved something for it.

Harry softly walked to the side of the bed and ran his index finger down Louis’ spine.  Louis seriously wanted to behave, so he didn’t even grip at the sheets with his tense fists, didn’t embarrassingly moan from the slight touch from Harry like he wanted to. Instead, his teeth bit down hard on nothing as he clenched his jaw and tried to reign in his breathing again, tried to stop himself from clenching his arse and humping the air.

In between his legs, his heavy cock just hung, pointing to the bed and burning and throbbing for attention, and from the corner of his eye, he could jealously see Harry running a thumb along his own cockhead, the rest of his fingers gripped loosely along his shaft. 

It wasn’t fair.

Louis must’ve inadvertently let some noise slip because Harry tutted.  He left the Louis’ side but in a moment was back with a small, dark tube of slippery liquid. He slid the container across the blanket and touched it to Louis’ hand.

"I'll touch myself, and you touch yourself," Harry explained.

He knew Louis wouldn’t like that, didn’t want that, but Louis didn’t complain. Didn’t even move yet. Harry took the slight pause to drag the chair he’d been using across the floor to the side of the bed.

Louis could see Harry sit down on the chair and resume touching himself lazily. Harry hadn’t told Louis to open the lube yet, and Louis waited with achy arms until he just couldn’t anymore.

“Can I speak?” Louis asked quietly.

Harry’s voice was rather raspy. “Go on.”

"What do you want me t—what are my instructions?"

Harry smiled. “Sit back on your calves.”

Louis followed Harry’s order, and his arms sang in relief.

“Turn to face me,” Harry instructed next.

Again, Louis silently obeyed, and _wow_ —he was suddenly faced with Harry’s lounged body, legs splayed open and abs all tight, a hand roaming over his thick cock and his face screwed up with the pleasure he was giving himself. 

Louis didn’t know what to do with his own hands, so he just placed them behind him at his feet and stared at his lap. His dick curved a bit to the side from where it sat in between his thighs, almost pathetically hard, _twitching_ as he noticed Harry begin to thrust his cock up into his own hand.  There was a drop of pre-cum at Louis’ slit, and it just remained there glistening—untouched, waiting. Louis thought to how Harry always liked to lick it away, to aim the tip of his tongue directly _for_ it, to moan once he tasted it in his mouth.

Just thinking about Harry’s mouth around his cock, Louis’ throat made a desperate noise.

“Look at me,” Harry said, hips moving slowly up and down. Louis looked up.

Harry knew he could come just from solely picturing Louis’ face, had actually done it many times before.  All those years ago, stuck in dark rooms alone, he’d pull himself off to messy completion just from imagining Louis’ lips, Louis’ eyes, Louis’ cheeks…

But _this_.

Louis’ blue eyes were wide, an expression written on his face that indicated pure obedience, _want_ , devotion. Harry contemplated reaching just a few inches to his right and clasping the collar on Louis again. How nicely that would complete the look, how fucking perfect it would be.

But maybe not this time. He was actually already thinking of the next time he would present it to Louis, and he didn’t want it to be now. Not when they were just tossing off together.

“Now,” Harry said, pulling himself a little faster, “touch yourself a little. Just get your cock wet.”

Louis touched the lube beside him and looked at Harry with inquisitive eyes.

Harry shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Just my hand?” Louis asked, though he didn’t wait for an answer before he gratefully began rubbing around the drips of wetness progressively seeping out from the tip of his cock with only his index and middle fingers.

“Yeah, spread around the pre-cum like that,” Harry said gravelly. His hand was still steadily twisting up and down his shaft, his strokes long. He was being _gentle_ with himself, restraining his hips from moving too fast.

 _God_ , Louis hardly ever got to do this, to play with his own dick like this, and he was becoming greedy with it. His hips darted forward a bit as he continued to wet his entire cockhead with just the tips of his fingers, and he could only assume Harry didn’t notice or didn’t care. So just seconds later, he wrapped a tight and daring hand around his entire length, desperate for the pressure on his hot cock, and he didn’t mind that he appeared desperate for the touch because Harry was fucking _his_ own hand already and maybe Louis _was_ desperate—

“Not yet,” Harry chided, and, though unsatisfied, Louis immediately removed his hand. “Look at me.”

Louis swallowed and lifted his head, and he saw Harry’s hand slapping more quickly now against his long cock.

“Use it now,” Harry said, motioning to the tube of lube with his head.

Louis gave a minor nod before he squeezed an excessive amount of lube on his cock. He watched the slick globs drip down the side before he gasped and lifted his hand to spread the liquid up and down and all around. He unnecessarily used both of his hands, small fingers running over his shaft and cockhead again and again, wanting to look cute about it as he let out little moans.

Needing to channel his need somehow, Louis brought his free hand up to his chest and delicately squeezed at a nipple, tweaking it until his entire cock was ridiculously dark and wet.

He already knew that Harry liked the way it looked when he played with himself so coyly like this, but when he looked up and saw Harry’s face, saw how Harry had stopped touching himself altogether in lieu of squeezing both of his thighs with strong fingers instead, Louis’ breath hitched.

“Keep going?” Louis asked.

Harry nodded tightly and relaxed his grip on his legs.

He took a shaky breath. Truthfully, Harry knew this was a bit unnecessary—keeping the distance like this for the sake of not sharing his germs. Louis had been fussing over him for days, and if Harry knew Louis at all, he'd unfortunately probably be sick himself tomorrow.  But it was some consolation to Harry to at least _try_ to keep Louis as healthy as possible. And Harry hardly ever got to see Louis touch himself anymore, so that was also a huge reason why he was currently forcing himself not to spring out of the chair and pin Louis’ hands above his head.

Louis’ entire hand wrapped around his cock then, and he waited a moment to just look at himself before he inhaled a breath and began moving.

When his hand actually began pulling himself, Louis whispered, “ _Harry_ ,” wanting his boyfriend so much more instead. He still couldn’t deny that it felt _wonderful_ , however, and he moaned soft and light before staring ahead, just zoning out at the sight of Harry’s cock and balls while Harry gaped at him, _listened_ to him.

Looking up and maintaining eye contact with Harry, Louis pivoted his hips upward. His mouth dropped open in shock, and _Jesus_ , that desperate look in his eyes always made Harry weak.

Louis squeezed his arse cheeks together each time he thrust upwards, forceful with it like he didn’t care if he came in just under a minute because that’s what it was looking like would happen. Somehow his eyes left Harry’s face and travelled down his body to stare at himself again as he worked his hand up and down, moved his hips up and down, and he wasn’t thinking when he made the sudden decision to lay back.

He moaned, his hand still gripping, twisting, squeezing, and his hips still jerking. As he moved his shins so he was no longer sitting on them, he planted his feet on the mattress, splayed open his legs as widely as he could with the panties still there at his knees, and lowered his free hand to massage his balls.

 _God_ , he wanted something inside of him, _anything_. He pictured Harry just moving forward a bit, standing up, plowing inside him with his already-wet cock, ripping off his panties and throwing a leg over his own shoulder—just fucking _taking_ him, and his hand began moving faster.

_“Shit, Harry. Oh, shit, oh s-shit—”_

Harry sat forcefully immobilized—his body tight, muscles clenched—while watching Louis squirm about on the bed. Louis had opened his legs directly in front of the chair so Harry could have a most perfect view of everything, but now, watching Louis’ hand move frantically on his cock with the tiny fingers of his other hand pressing desperately at his hole—all underneath those _purple knickers_ — _whining_ —

“ _Fuck it_ ,” Harry whispered harshly as he stood up and invaded Louis’ space at the edge of the bed.  He was now in between Louis’ knees, leaning forward, towering over Louis. “Just—roll back over—get back on your hands and knees.”

Louis was reluctant to remove his hands from between his legs, but when Harry said, “ _Now_ , _Louis_ , _do it now_ ,” he adjusted himself quickly and perked out his arse again, hips still shuddering from being abruptly backed away from the edge of orgasm like that.

Harry slinked on the bed and self-indulgently skimmed his fingers along the back of Louis’ legs, up and over to the sides of his thighs and hips, then finally along his tender arse. Louis was breathing heavily, and he was shameless with his moans as Harry’s thumbs touched either side of his arsehole and parted the skin there.

Harry gawked for a long moment, just in shock at how sexy Louis was like this. The noise Harry made was almost animalistic as he finally stuck his nose and mouth in between Louis’ arse cheeks and began devouring.

“Oh, yes, _yesss_ ,” Louis whispered gratefully.

At first, Harry just licked there and traced Louis’ rim, vigorously spelled out his own name with his tongue because Louis was _his_ , but then, hearing Louis began to swear, he wiggled in his tongue as far as it would go.

Louis fell forward to his forearms and pressed his mouth into his elbow. Harry heard Louis humming words he couldn’t make out as he continued to open him up, everything so damp and so hot and so frantic, Harry’s own moaning adding vibrations to Louis’ arse.

Harry suddenly removed his face and spit on Louis’ arse crack. Watching his saliva slide down to Louis’ hole, Harry took his thumb and pushed it inside of Louis, gasping when he felt Louis clench around him.

“Ride it,” Harry whispered. “Ride my thumb, come on, baby, let me see you.”

Louis moaned and moved his arse backwards, slowly impaling himself on just the tip of Harry’s thumb only to move forward and torturously do it again and again.

When Louis started moving faster, Harry abruptly took his thumb out and licked his middle and index fingers inside his mouth. Pressing them against Louis’ loosened rim, Harry gruffly whispered, “You’re so fucking beautiful, Louis,” before penetrating Louis again.

Harry was slow but pleasurable about it, more gentle than usual because of how much Louis had taken the other night. Still, Louis backed up surely against Harry’s fingers, making them go deep, making them really stretch him out.

Harry pressed a sloppy kiss to Louis’ arse cheek as he watched. “Eager…”

Harry moved his face and began licking Louis again, anywhere he could reach around his own fingers, down to his balls, up his perineum, and then around his rim again. He was shocked when Louis reached behind him and widened his hole even larger with his own fingers, so he took advantage of that and stuck his tongue in difficultly above his own fingers.

“You should just fuck me, Harry,” Louis whined, almost completely out of breath, his fingers gripping and ungripping his skin. “God, I want you to.”

Harry’s tongue just went in deeper, and he groaned.

“Just do it,” Louis rasped, moving his arse back and forth and all around Harry’s mouth and fingers, “come on, baby, just do it, I want it, _please_.”

Harry ought to spank Louis, but he was satisfied still with the current fading color on Louis’ arse, so he slowly removed his fingers from the heat inside Louis.

Louis hid his satisfied smile as Harry pulled out a condom from the bedside drawer and unrolled it on himself. Once he felt Harry’s legs on the back of his own thighs, Louis wiggled his bum enticingly until Harry smirked and gripped Louis' hips.

“Sure you’re ready for it?”

Louis pushed his arse higher in the air. He could feel Harry’s tip against his skin. “ _Yes_ ,” he said adamantly. “I can take it.”

Harry coated himself in even more lube before lining himself up to Louis and pressing forward, sinking just the tip of his cock inside Louis before having to pause and control his breathing.  _Fuck_. He and Louis had just fucked days ago—why did he feel like it’d been years?

He had to squeeze his eyes shut and think of something else—football, the rain outside, _anything_ , and shit— _shit_ , he felt so young again.

Harry gripped his cock at the base for a few moments before Louis began whimpering. Feeling more in control of himself, Harry dipped forward with a bit more force than necessary to make up for the wait, really making Louis feel his complete length, and Harry was satisfied at Louis’ shuddery breath.

And—oh, God, even with a condom on, Harry didn’t know how he was supposed to even _move_ because he felt like he could just combust from being inside Louis’ body alone.

“Please,” Louis whispered, “stop teasing, Harry, please…”

Harry still kept his eyes closed. Thoughts trained on not coming— _don’t come, don’t come, don’t come_ —he tightened his grip on Louis’ hips and drug his cock back against the tightness that was threatening to ruin him.

Harry’s movements were slow, precise. He moved one hand to the top of Louis’ arse, thumb nestled right down the crack of it, as he stared at his shiny cock entering and leaving there. For a few thrusts, Harry completely left Louis’ body only to slowly plunge back in, until Louis finally backed up his arse far enough to keep Harry inside for good.

“ _Harry_ ,” Louis whispered, happy and sugary and light. Harry fucking loved him.

Sweet little noises kept leaving Louis’ mouth every time Harry’s hips pressed flush against his arse, and he kept his eyes closed as he bit on his thumb with a look on his face like heaven.  Harry’s hips accelerated of their own accord, and Louis squeezed a pillow closer to his body as he incessantly moaned.

Completely focused on making this good for Louis now, lost in Louis’ noises and Louis’ perfection, Harry got carried away.

Harry hadn’t realized that it was feeling quite so good for himself when his stomach suddenly tightened and his orgasm blindingly ripped out of his body. His fingers squeezed at Louis’ flesh as he gushed out into the condom with a held-in groan, hard pulse after hard pulse beating in his chest.

Harry panted in exertion but kept moving his hips for Louis’ sake until he realized it was pointless; his dick had gotten soft.  Sometimes—rarely—he was able to come twice, but he knew now wouldn’t be one of those times. 

He frowned severely and swore as he backed up and basically just fell out of Louis.

“ _Fucking shit_ ,” he muttered angrily, running his long fingers through his hair, heart still rabbiting.

Louis felt Harry’s body weight leave the bed, and his eyes opened after he let out a whine. So upset to be empty again, he complained, “But it felt so good…”

Louis wanted Harry back. He watched as Harry walked to the corner of the room, however, and he was confused. Feeling odd with his arse still up in the air, he rolled over and sat up in confusion. 

“…H-Harry?”

Momentarily hating himself, Harry discarded his used condom and entered the closet. He looked angry yet determined, and then it made sense to Louis what had happened.

"…It-it's okay, Harry," Louis said. All he saw was Harry's naked backside as he pushed aside a bunch of things in the closet. 

He knew Harry had gotten something out from their shoebox to finish him off, but Louis still wanted to change the look on Harry's face. "Babe, really…it's fine."

Harry returned with eyes shaded dark, one of Louis’ favorite vibrators in his hand. He ignored what Louis was saying and ordered, “Lie back.”

Louis nodded and lay down on his back quietly. Harry always got like this when he came too soon, like he had to reprove his manliness to Louis because he felt like he hadn’t given Louis enough pleasure or something, but Louis wasn’t complaining. He liked that Harry cared so much about making him come because he had heard from friends that some people were not as conscientious.

Harry crawled forward on the bed with just his knees. “Legs.”

Louis bent his legs at the knees and widened them a bit, his panties now somehow down to the ankle of his left leg. At this point his genitals were so sensitive that he was sure just blowing air on his dick would make him come, but when Harry softly pressed the vibrator to Louis' loosened rim, Louis hissed and had to force his body to stay calm.

The toy wasn't horribly thick—maybe just the width of two of Harry's fingers side-by-side, which was still saying something—but that wasn't what this was about. It wasn't about stretching Louis to his limits. It was about making him feel good on the inside, pleasing him, hearing him make those noises that Harry soaked up like sunshine.

So Harry slid the vibrator in slowly and told Louis to lay back with his eyes closed. Harry was far too obsessed with Louis' eyes and hardly ever told Louis to close them, but Louis listened and waited as Harry inched the toy inched in further and further. He knew what was about to come, those whirling vibrations that drove him crazy, and his breathing increased slightly as he tried to hide his squirming.

"Relax," Louis heard. He nodded and tried his best to loosen and flatten out all of his muscles once he felt the entirety of the vibrator inside him.

 

Where Harry would normally smirk, he just darkly glared at Louis. “Feel good?”

Louis nodded again. This toy was the best because the tip of it vibrated, kind of like a snake’s tail, and Louis loved it.

“Haven’t even turned it on yet,” Harry whispered.

“It’s— _God_ ,“ Louis breathed, gripping the sheets, “I just really love having something inside me.”

Harry’s eyes changed at Louis’ slutty confession, and he briefly showed Louis his index finger before dragging it down his stomach. There are the end was the tiny little finger-vibrator that Harry had tried to use once, the night that Louis had let the word _Daddy_ slip for the first time, the night that had changed so many things.

Harry bent down and took one of Louis’ nipples in his mouth, licked it and kissed it, backed off with a bite. Then he simultaneously touched the tip of his finger to the underside of Louis’ cock and turned on the larger vibrator, and Louis jerked at the sensation of both.

He immediately squeaked over the loud buzzing in the room, his eyes and mouth wide as he gripped the sheets tighter and looked at Harry. “I’m—I’m not—“ he shook his head pointlessly, “This is gonna make me come in, like, a second,” he admitted roughly, the last part of his sentence ending in a moan.

He thrashed his head on the pillow before finally biting at the inside of his own arm. Inside his arse, the vibrator forcefully whirled, so hard he could feel it in his stomach, and outside, Harry began moving the smaller toy in tight little circles.

Louis lifted a useless hand and tapped at Harry’s forearm in warning before tensing up his body.  Without blinking, Harry watched as Louis’ cock shot out onto his stomach with three short bursts.

“ _Uhnnnn_ ,” Louis wailed into his own bicep. His noises were quieter with each softer thrust of his hips, dying down to moans and whimpers until he was still and quiet. _“Uhnn, uhnn….”_

Louis finally unlatched his teeth from his bicep and opened his eyes while panting. He looked down at himself and noticed his dick give a weird little jerk before it began to soften, so, naturally, he began to laugh.

Harry pulled the toys away and discarded them somewhere.  His expression was so fond that Louis felt it all over. Harry didn’t say “I love you,” but Louis felt it anyway, felt the words warm his skin regardless, and Louis vaguely realized he was grinning like an idiot as he looked back at him.

Harry kissed his way up Louis’ torso, and when he reached Louis’ neck, he made noises like a monster and buried his head there, kissing around like mad.

Louis squirmed and pushed at Harry until he finally unlatched his mouth. “Dork,” he said, still trying to regain his breath.

“You’re so fucking hot.” Harry smiled, looking down at Louis bare body. He heavily sighed. Louis knew Harry wanted to say sorry for coming before he got the chance to, but it went without saying that Louis was satisfied and didn’t want to hear an apology.  Instead, Harry whispered, “We should clean up.”

“Yeah, because I have your slobber-germs all over me now,” Louis replied, sticking out his tongue.

Harry made a faux-mean face in response but still said, “I really hope you don’t get sick.”  He rested his head on Louis’ still-erratically-beating heart and, while rubbing little circles on the patches of cum on Louis’ stomach, continued, “You shouldn’t, though, because you did such a good job making sure that cold went away for me. Probably killed all the cold germs…”

They were in some sort of stupid afterglow, and Louis smiled.  “I like taking care of you.”

“Well, I like taking care of you more.”

Harry meant a lot with that phrase, but more than anything, he kept thinking about how bad he felt for coming so quickly just earlier, how that wasn’t what he had wanted for Louis at all.

Louis lethargically wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck.  “Still doesn’t mean you can’t accept my help from time to time, love,” he said, hoping to convey to Harry that he really needed to stop acting the hero all the time by denying help.

Harry answered honestly, “Yeah, well, I don’t know, it makes me feel guilty, kind of.”  He knew they were still talking about him being sick, but his mind was still obsessed with not making Louis come first.  Either way, the guilt was still there in both situations.

“It shouldn’t. You deserve to be spoiled, too, you know.”

Harry’s thoughts came back to reality.  “Not when I’m gross and my bogeys are all over the place,” he responded.

“ _Especially_ when you’re gross and your bogeys are all over the place.”

Harry didn’t respond, but Louis felt Harry’s smile against his skin.  He reached somewhere behind him and found Louis’ panties. Already dirty, he used the fabric to wipe up the rest of Louis’ cum on his torso before throwing the knickers to the floor.

“Honestly, how did your mum even put up with you as a child?” Louis teased after a few moments of silence, both boys just breathing quietly together. “I bet you stuck your medicine under your tongue and spit it out when she wasn’t looking.”

Harry laughed loudly, and when he lifted his head to look at Louis, he was grinning.  “I totally did.  Sometimes.  _But_ ,” he spoke over Louis’ loud expression of _I knew it_ , “you’re one to talk.”

Louis smacked his lips. “Staying on the sofa in order to be easily _waited_ _on_ whilst sick is not even comparable to _spitting out medicine_ whilst sick.”

Harry ignored that last part and went on, “Yeah, but you never even _leave_ the sofa until you’re, like, way past being sick, though.  You drag _all_ of your pillows and _all_ of your blankets down there and make a home in front of the telly for days.  And your mum told me you’ve always been like that.”

Louis just smiled. “If I’m sick, I should at least get privileges, yeah? That’s the way I see it.”

“You’re silly,” Harry said but didn’t really mean it.  Louis was actually endearing as hell.  “And how is the sofa a privilege?”

Louis had a bunch of energy from his orgasm, and he wiggled back to sit up against the headboard.  He counted off on his fingers.  “You just said it: I get to watch telly all day.  Or play games.  And the sofa is actually rather comfortable because I’m surrounded by cushions on basically all sides. I’m also closer to the kitchen which means closer to tea and food, and I’m in a local area, so anyone that walks by knows I’m sick.”

Harry laughed a bit too hard and began coughing lightly.  “Having people recognize you’re unwell is a privilege?”

“Yes,” Louis said emphatically.  When Harry kept laughing, he continued, “What? When I’m feeling poorly, I like people to know I am. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, Lou,” Harry answered, snuggling back into Louis’ chest.  He placed a little kiss by Louis’ nipple before whispering, “You’re such a little princess.”

“So what if I am,” Louis answered quietly. “Better than torturing yourself by refusing medicine,” he quipped.

“It’s not torture,” Harry answered. “If it had been really bad, or if we were on tour or something, that’d be different. I like to have colds just run their course if I can help it.”

“Yeah, but babe,” Louis reasoned, playing with Harry’s hair, “it could’ve easily settled in your ear or chest or something.  You’d’ve been dealing with bronchitis or some shit, and that would’ve been awful.”

“Awful for _whom_ , exactly?  Me or your bum?” Harry joked, knowing Louis hated going without sex for too long.  Case-in-point: half an hour ago when he was begging Harry for it, seeking him out while cooking dinner and poking him with his erection.

“Oh, shut up,” Louis chuckled, stretching.  “I think it’s worse for my bum when you’re up to full health, to be fair.”

Harry lifted himself up on one arm and hovered above Louis’ face. He gently kissed Louis and smiled against his mouth. “You’re right.”

Louis licked his lips with a gross look on his face. “Have you been drinking whiskey?”

Harry moved away from Louis to re-dress. “Just a little bit, yeah. Scotch before dinner, yum yum yum.”

Louis looked to the side table and saw the empty glass Harry was referring to. “You are such a fucking hipster,” he said with all the fondness in the world.

Harry looked at him in puzzlement. “Huh? Scotch is a hipster thing?”

And if a person could affectionately roll their eyes, Louis did just that.

 

* * *

 

Zayn didn’t know what to do with himself after he forcefully slammed the door and left.  So, naturally, he lit a cigarette and began to aimlessly walk along the damp pavement.

It was raining, of _course_ , but the droplets fell down soft and steadily, not forcefully.  Just enough to match how watered-down and dreary he felt.  Sure, Zayn’s legs were moving, his lungs were breathing, and his eyes were working… He felt the pavement underneath his boots, smelled and tasted the damp air, muddily saw all the things he was quickly passing… but he just didn’t understand how any of that could _be_ , for he was dead.

He walked and walked and walked until he found himself close to Harry’s and Louis’, of course, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to bother them or not. His need for comfort—in any form—slightly outweighed his extreme desire to be alone, however, so he decided to visit the pair.

Having already seen Zayn approaching the house on the security camera, Louis was already at the door when Zayn’s fist was poised to knock. Louis’ easy grin fell after taking in Zayn’s stormy demeanor and untidy appearance.  He didn’t question anything, however, just moved out of Zayn’s way and let him inside.

After taking off his wet boots and jacket, Zayn followed Louis to the lounge where Harry was already relaxing, sprawled out on the couch in only his boxers and a shirt Zayn recognized as Louis’.  Louis was dressed similarly—just in joggers and bare feet, no shirt—and he nonchalantly slumped beside Harry as Harry lazily acknowledged Zayn with a wave.

“You feelin’ better, then?” Zayn asked Harry.

Harry nodded and looked to Louis with sparkling eyes. “Oh, yeah. Loads.”

When Zayn threw a baggie of weed on the table, Louis’ eyes twinkled, and he sat up more fully.  “Oooh. Where’s Liam?” he asked, looking curiously at Zayn.

“Why’re you asking me?” Zayn asked, reaching into another pocket for his rolling papers.  It was hard enough for his brain to ever stop thinking about Liam, but whenever people asked about him, _there he was again_ , taking up the entire room all at once, proving that he’d never really go away.   It was going to make it so much worse for Zayn when Liam finally realized he’d be better off alone and finally just left.

“Well, I dunno, mate,” Louis answered, a bit taken aback, “‘cause he’s your _boyfriend_.”  When Zayn didn’t say anything, Louis said lighter, “And you always smoke with Liam these days…”

Zayn had to sigh in order to collect his bearings.  Noticing Zayn’s mood, Louis looked over at Harry with confused eyes. He knew something had been going on with Zayn lately, but whenever questioned, Zayn never wanted to talk. Maybe he and Liam were fighting.

Harry looked at Zayn speculatively as he began breaking up the weed and rolling a small joint, knowing something was off. “All right, there, Zayn?” he asked with worry.

“Eh,” was Zayn’s gruff reply.  He couldn’t tell Harry or Louis what was really going on in his head.  Where would he even _start_ , anyway? He felt utterly ridiculous. Stupid, even. Depressed and hollow for no reason whatsoever, and it’d been that way for fucking days.

“What’s wrong, mate?” Louis asked in true concern, lightly tapping Zayn on the knee with his fingers and shaking him out of his glum thoughts.

Zayn simply shrugged, wetting his index finger on his tongue and running it along the joint’s side to seal.  He quickly brushed aside the lads’ questions.  “I wouldn’t even know where to begin,” Zayn finally answered honestly. “Smoking indoor’s all right, yeah?”

“Yeah, just not cigarettes,” Harry confirmed.

Louis rolled his eyes. “That makes no sense whatsoever, Harold.”

“It makes perfect sense,” Harry argued, to which Louis’ index finger covered his mouth so he’d stop talking. Harry opened his mouth, sucked Louis’ finger inside, and sharply bit the skin. Louis screwed up his face in pain before Harry soothingly ran his tongue around and around, taking away the sting his teeth had left. He didn’t blink as he stared at Louis and hollowed out his cheeks, sucking as hard as he could. Louis already felt his cock growing inside the new panties he’d put on just a bit earlier.

Zayn was trying to ignore what Harry and Louis were doing, and luckily he couldn’t tell what Harry’s tongue was doing to Louis’ finger _inside_ Harry’s mouth, but once Louis’ eyelids got all soft and his bottom lip fell open, enough was enough. It was as if Harry and Louis were just rubbing their relationship in Zayn’s face, like _“look how_ perfect _we are for each other, look at what a great couple we make!”_ when it was obvious that his relationship with Liam wasn’t like that. 

“Lads,” Zayn said tiredly.

Both of the boys’ heads turned to Zayn simultaneously, and Harry let Louis’ finger fall from his mouth.  “Sorry,” they both said at once, Louis shamelessly wiping his wet finger off on a blanket behind him. 

Louis evaluated Zayn from a distance.  He’d been saying he was “fine” for a week now, but that was clearly far from the truth. It was time to get everything out in the open, and maybe sharing a tiny high would help matters.

Zayn lit the small joint and leaned back into the chair as he hogged it for a bit. After he felt his lungs pleasantly tingle and his brain numbly buzz, he passed it to Louis and rested his chin in his palm, staring off into space.

As nobody was uptight about any particular rules while smoking, Louis hung onto the joint for a bit, too, before holding it back out to Zayn. 

“Heyyy,” Harry said.

Louis just looked at Harry in confusion; he hardly ever smoked, and, as he’d been so quick to remind Louis, he _was_ just getting over a cold.  Louis held the joint up speculatively, silently asking if that was what Harry wanted.

Harry shook his head. “Yeah, no. I’m probably not completely over…whatever this was,” he said, gesturing to his throat and face.

Louis nodded, but then his eyes lit up. “Well, since we know I’ll probably get sick anyway…” he began.

Louis took one last hit and held the smoke in his mouth for a second before leaning over to press his lips to Harry’s. Harry was puzzled and thought Louis meant to kiss him, so he puckered his lips and leaned forward, missing the point entirely.

Louis looked at Harry’s comically-pursed lips and began laughing, and all the smoke in his mouth left in one huge, thick cloud. Louis coughed as all the smoke flew around the air in front of his face, and he waved it away while still chuckling. 

“Guess we’ll try again,” Louis endearingly told Harry.  “You’re supposed to suck when I blow in your mouth.”

Harry made a funnily-confused face, like he wanted to make a dirty joke about that but was too slow to even attempt to come up with something.  The next time Louis tried to shotgun, though, his attempt was successful, and Zayn watched in sulky envy as Harry and Louis turned the act into some kind of foreplay. Harry inhaled the smoke and blew it away with quite a few large coughs, almost immediately returning his lips to Louis’.

Louis was very pleased.

Louis gave the joint back to Zayn then, who spent the next minute silently finishing it while melting backwards into the chair. At least he felt a little better now, because he felt nothing at all. Just emptiness. And he was so _stupid_. Liam was the one who could comfort him, he knew, and he was the one turning Liam away, _again_ , and none of his actions or feelings or _anything_ made sense anymore. 

The weed hadn’t done much for him. He still felt like crying.

Harry and Louis weren’t cheering him up at all. In fact, they were having the opposite effect. He was growing a bit resentful towards them. They kept giving each other fond, affectionate looks, always _touching_ one another, and Zayn had to look at something else. After dropping the end of the joint in his cigarette pack, he reached forward and switched on the television, clicking around until he found a football match he fancied watching.

For a while, Zayn lost himself in the commentators’ prattle, eyes droopy from shitty sleep, mind kind of slow. Meanwhile, Louis and Harry were still on the sofa staring at one another and laughing softly.

“What’s so funny?” Harry asked, clutching Louis’ sides. “Why are we laughing again?”

“Oh, Haz, one hit and you’re done for,” Louis giggled. 

“I’m not—I’m not high or anything,” Harry clarified. “Just pleasantly happy, is all.”

“’Pleasantly happy,’” Louis teased. “You’re so _cute_ , Hazza. My _Hazza_ …”

Louis reached out and grabbed Harry’s cheeks, pinching them and making Harry’s head move around.  Harry looked like a happy kitten getting attention as he closed his eyes and smiled into the touch.

“Can I ask for advice on something extremely, extremely personal?” Zayn suddenly asked out of nowhere, sitting up.

Harry and Louis were startled out of their moment by Zayn’s question, but after looking at how serious Zayn appeared, they straightened themselves out and nodded their heads.

“Absolutely,” Harry said. At Zayn’s tone, his playful demeanor had gone.

“When we were all together the last time, here in this room, what all did you—oh, I don’t even know how to fucking say this,” Zayn muttered to himself.

Louis leaned forward, happy to finally talk.  He was going to get Zayn to feel better if it took all night.  “Just try, Z, it’s okay.”

Zayn’s eyes became misty, and he took a deep breath. He looked at anything but Louis. “Aren’t you embarrassed about what we did? At least a little?”

“Embarrassed about what?” Louis asked straight away, sensing that the question was directed at him.

“About the…About what happened.”

“Are you talking about us sharing the—”

“Just, all of it,” Zayn interrupted.  “Everything.  The…”

“You should try saying it out loud,” Harry said after Zayn’s long pause, having a dreadful feeling in the bottom of his gut that he already knew where this was going.  “It’ll help.”

“The cock cage, the dildo, just everything,” Zayn finished quietly. “You’re not embarrassed?”

“I don’t know if embarrassed would be the word I’d use,” Louis said honestly, thinking back to that night. “I mean, maybe a bit _ridiculed_. But in a good way, if that makes sense.”

“I don’t get it—I don’t…how does that make you feel good?”

“I…We’ve talked about this before out on the patio, remember? I, er, just like knowing that Harry’s…er, _using_ me, in a sense.  And it makes me feel good just because—” Louis ended up shrugging.  “Because it just does.  And I know that Harry loves me, and I trust him.  So, yeah.  I…I like it.”

With his face still stern as he listened to Zayn, Harry gave Louis a small wink that Zayn couldn’t see.

“I don’t understand myself,” Zayn whispered as he frowned.  “That’s how I feel, too. I mean, I like it, too. At least…I thought I did.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Zayn shrugged.  “I don’t even know, mate. Really, I don’t. I _thought_ I liked everything, too, but now…Now everything’s just so confusing. Now I’m just fucking sad all the time, or tired, and most of all _angry_ on the inside, and it all switches back and forth, sometimes minute-to-minute even, and some part of me knows that it’s all because of what we did together that night...what _I_ did…”

The ants in Harry’s head flattened out a bit, and he was suddenly very, very grave.  “And it hasn’t helped when you’re with Liam? He hasn’t made you feel better?”

Zayn sighed, and his mouth pulled down at the sides.  “Liam…He hasn’t really….Liam doesn’t understand. But I can’t blame him,” he said as his throat began tightening, tears just on the horizon, “because I don’t understand either. I thought that maybe I’d shake it off after I got some sleep, but it’s been _days_ now, and just…nothing’s different. I’m just so fucking _embarrassed_.  Liam must think I’m— _fucking_ — _disgusting_ —”

Zayn’s words tore out of his throat as he began to cry. _Why_ did he feel this way? What was _wrong_ with him?

“Hey,” Louis said in surprise at Zayn’s crying, leaning forward to place a hand on Zayn’s knee. “ _Hey_ , is that what this has all been about…?” Zayn began earnestly crying then, and Louis’ face turned sad.  “ _Zayn_ …”

“I don’t fucking know what’s wrong with me,” Zayn said through loud sniffles. “I know I felt fine that night, _great_ that night—but ever since then, I can’t seem to cheer up.  And I just keep looking back to everything—that happened—and feeling so _stupid_ ,” he snuffled, emphasizing words here and there with the whining tone of his cries, the hitches of his breath as he struggled to breathe.  “Like Liam didn’t even—like—what happened—and _I wore a fucking cock cage_ , like how _disgusting_ is that, and _fuck_ —I’m going absolutely _mental_ , aren’t I…”

Zayn felt stupid after his admission, and there was no way that Harry and Louis would even begin to understand what he was trying to say, but he was still glad he’d gotten it out.  Even if it meant that now he genuinely couldn’t stop crying. He threw his face in his hands and just let his shoulders shake.

Louis gave a wary look to Harry, who just confirmed his thoughts by nodding and running his fingers through his own hair.

“ _Zayn_ , it’s all right, it’s all right,” Louis said softly, hand now softly moving up and down Zayn’s leg where he could reach. “You’re not mental, love…It’s normal to feel like this sometimes, okay? Let it out… We’re here…”

Harry leaned forward, itching to do something. He wanted to mention that book that he’d leant to Zayn and Liam, wanted to know if Zayn even _knew_ what he was describing right now, but he knew that now probably wouldn’t be the right time. It wouldn’t be helpful right now. Zayn just needed to release everything.

And he did.  Loudly crying now, his words were almost indiscernible.

“ _Liam doesn’t care_ ,” Zayn cried, coughing at the force he was sobbing.  “Because he likes things to make sense.  And I—can’t _be_ sensible with this!  I can’t say, ‘Oh, I’m feeling—upset because of _this_ —or because of _that_ ,’ and…it makes no— _sense_ to him—and it makes no sense to m-m-me!”

“Liam _does_ care, Zayn,” Louis desperately said, understanding more than Zayn actually knew. “Liam _loves_ you. Liam loves you so much.”

Zayn shook his head violently. “I’m gross—I’m gross—“

Louis fell to the floor and scurried to Zayn on his knees. _“No, you’re not,”_ he said firmly.

Louis put his head on Zayn’s lap as Zayn continued, “I just—” Zayn’s voice was cracking, but God, he was so glad to finally have someone to _talk_ to— “I just feel—like such—a—disappointment.  ‘Cause he tries!  He’s— _trying_ —but it n-never feels like enough.  And I just want to push him—a-away—because I don’t feel—like I even—deserve it, but I’m still— _mad_ at him—and so— in love it hurts—and so—so—so _upset_ —“

Zayn had started violently crying now, so much he could no longer string words together. Immediately, Louis sprung off the floor and straddled Zayn on the chair, hugging him like a koala bear, rocking him gently, wiping his tears away, shushing him to get his breathing back down to normal.

“I’m probably—ruining your buzz, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Zayn apologized, face drenched in tears, his chest erratically moving as he struggled to breathe.  “ _God_ , I’m sorry.”

Louis framed Zayn’s face with his hands. “No, no. It’s okay, Zayn. You’re fine.  It’s okay. You’re perfect.  You’re perfect.  Shhh…”

Coached in helping Harry with past panic attacks, Louis rested his forehead on Zayn’s and said, “Breathe with me now, come on.”  He moved his hands from Zayn’s face then to hold Zayn’s hands in his own.  Bringing them to rest on his own chest so Zayn could feel, Louis took a breath slow and deep enough that Zayn could feel the air expand Louis’ chest outwards.

“Try it with me, Z.”  Louis took another breath and watched as Zayn copied him. Then again. Then again.  “Easy, easy, shh. In, then out. In, then out.”

The boys were silent as they focused on their deep breathing, and once Zayn was properly using his lungs again, Louis wrapped his arms around him once more and just enveloped him in his warmth.

“I might get you sick,” Louis whispered. “Seeing as I’m probably sick myself…”

“I don’t care,” Zayn whispered, hugging Louis back, oblivious to Harry watching the scene in pity.  “I just want somebody to—pay attention—to me. To really pay attention to me.”

Those words hit Louis hard, and he squeezed tighter onto Zayn, hugged him until both their bodies were hot and he was positive that all of Zayn’s sniffling had stopped.  He backed away from Zayn a bit and placed kisses all over his face, slow, slow kisses on his forehead and his cheeks and his chin, and Zayn closed his eyes and sighed.

“Let’s go to one of the bedrooms, okay?” Louis asked softly.  While Harry stood up and walked into the kitchen to warm up some pasta for Zayn to eat, Louis took Zayn’s hand and led him to a room at the very end of the hall, one that was never ever used, and together the two boys got under the covers of the bed in there and snuggled.

“You said this is normal,” Zayn said, exhaling a huge breath once Louis was once again done showering him with kisses. “How is this normal? How is feeling like this, like utter _shit_ , normal?”

Louis didn’t know where he should begin. “Babe,” he started, “there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“There _has_ to be, though. I know feeling like this for so long can’t be _normal_ , Louis, but I still _do_ —I mean, it’s not like I’m imagining it—“

“No,” Louis corrected gently, “I know that your feelings are definitely real, Z, but I’m just saying, as well, that it’s completely _natural_ to feel how you’re feeling, love.”

“How is it natural to feel so bad?” Zayn asked downheartedly.

So Louis explained it to him in the only way he knew how. He snuggled in closer to Zayn and shared the story of when it had happened to him before.

 

* * *

 

“Where is he?” Liam asked in a hurry once Harry opened the door for him.

Harry sighed.  He’d _just_ gotten off the phone with Liam, and he knew Liam must’ve broken about fifty traffic laws to have gotten here so fast.  “He’s with Louis in one of the bedrooms.”

Liam immediately side-stepped Harry to go to Zayn, but Harry’s hand on his chest stopped him.  “I really need to see him, mate,” Liam rushed out, trying to move Harry out of the way.  He felt like a shit boyfriend for constantly saying the wrong thing all the time, and now he was single-mindedly going to make things right with Zayn.

“We really ought to talk.”

“But Harry, this is important—”

“This _is_ important,” Harry acknowledged, still blocking Liam’s path. “ _Very_ important, and I think you should maybe just wait a bit. We should talk about some things first.”

Liam didn’t like the way that sounded.  Regardless of the fact that he knew his boyfriend was upset and was literally _right down the hall,_ he took a seat at the kitchen table and expectantly looked at Harry, wringing his hands in front of him.

Harry placed his forearms on the table. “So first, I guess, what do you know about what’s going on with him?”

Liam didn’t know where to begin.  He was worried beyond belief because when he’d called Harry asking if Zayn was there, he thought he heard Zayn crying in the background. It was just like Zayn’s behavior in his bedroom the other night. Liam didn’t know what was going on, but he was concerned as shit because he hated to see—or even _hear_ —Zayn upset.

“He came down with the cold on Saturday,” Liam started, answering Harry’s question with the only knowledge he had. “And he—he basically kicked me out when I checked on him that night. I think he thought I was babying him…he wanted to be alone… “ Liam cleared his throat. “Hasn’t even wanted me to sleep over or anything. He’s still not been feeling well when we’ve been in and out of the studio and working together and stuff, but I’ve just had this awful feeling that something else is going on.  And something else _is_ going on, isn’t it? You know something, don’t you?”

Harry passively assessed Liam. Liam looked genuinely concerned, worried beyond belief. Harry was stumped, however, as to why Liam hadn’t mentioned anything at all about _Friday_ night. Maybe Liam felt the need to omit it, but now wasn’t the time. 

“And what about the night in the lounge?” Harry asked, referring with his head to the room behind them.

“What about it?”

 _“What about it?”_ Harry repeated, incredulous. It had been a huge night for _everyone_ , and though Harry had obviously been paying more attention to Louis than he had to Zayn, he could tell that Zayn looked spacey that night. Definitely the farthest he’d ever seen Zayn gone, at least.

Liam asked in distress, “Did he say something about it? Did he not like it? Is that what this is about?”

“You don’t—?“  Harry sat back in shock. “You haven’t talked to him about it?”

“I—” Liam began, then closed his mouth. “I hadn’t gotten the chance to yet…Not before we had the little row…when he wanted me to leave his house when he was sick…”

“So you haven’t talked about Friday night with him at _all_ ,” Harry clarified. “And it’s Tuesday.”

Harry’s disappointment was thick in the room, and Liam felt a little defensive, a little manic. “Well, I wanted to, obviously, but he slept in so long the next morning that I didn’t get the chance to bring it up then, and then it wasn’t like I could just spring that on him first thing after he’d woken up, yeah? Not with everyone around. And then he wanted to go home without me, and _then_ he got sick, and then after that I got the feeling he just stopped wanting me to be around altogether.”

Harry sighed and put his elbows on the table. “All of this is a huge misunderstanding.”

“What?” Liam asked in confusion. “Listen, mate, _what is going on?_ I know he’s probably told you more than he’s even told me at this point, so—“

“I don’t think he ever had a cold, Liam,” Harry confessed.

“—so just _please_ —“ Liam had been talking over Harry but suddenly stopped. “Huh?”

Harry met eyes with Liam—Harry’s serious and dark, Liam’s wide and shining. “He’s been going through a really intense drop these past few days, Liam. Hasn’t been able to pull himself out of it. Not by himself. You haven’t realized…?”

When Liam didn’t reply at all, just responded with a wide-eyed and open-mouthed look, Harry asked, “You remember reading that chapter about aftercare and subdrop in that book I leant you, right?”

Liam blankly looked around until his eyes dropped to the table.

Harry’s voice turned stern. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

Liam’s head popped up. “I mean, I _read_ it, sure, but—we…I hadn’t gotten the time to read _all_ of it.  There’s been birthdays and holidays and—”

“ _Liam_ ,” Harry said exasperatedly.

“Sorry, mate!” Liam said rudely, standing up from his chair, overwhelmed with everything that was going on suddenly. “Sorry I can’t be perfect like you!” 

Harry looked upset at that. “I’m _not_ per—”

“Sorry,” Liam immediately apologized, running his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t mean it.”  He muttered as he paced the kitchen, “ _Sorry_ , it’s just, all of this is so—I can’t fucking— _God_ , I’ve gone and fucked him up, haven’t I? Now he probably _hates_ me—“

“Sit back down, please. Come on, Liam, just relax. It’s okay.”

“You try to relax when your boyfriend’s upset and it’s because of you! Clearly, it’s not okay! I’ve gone and fucked him up beyond repair, and now he’s going to want nothing to do with me—”

“That’s so far from the truth,” Harry said gently. “He came over here and began crying because he thinks that’s how _you_ feel.”

Liam stood still and looked at Harry desperately. “What all did he tell you?”

Harry sighed.  He didn’t know what he was supposed to divulge. “A lot of that is for you two to discuss.”

“Did he even _like_ that night? Was he unhappy with it? Did I take it too far?”

Harry shook his head.  “He said he liked everything.”

“But…” Liam pressed.

“ _But_ , now he’s feeling confused because he doesn’t think it’s _right_ to like it as much as he did, especially because he’s been worrying so much about how you’re really feeling about everything.”

“He’s been worrying this whole time about what I’ve been feeling?”

Harry nodded.

Liam sat down again, immobilized with his mouth open. Distraught, he kept running his fingers through his already-disheveled hair. “Why couldn’t he have told _me_ that? I—I’ve asked him so many times during the past couple days what’s been going on in his head…and now I feel even worse.”

Harry sighed lightly.  “He’s been waiting for you to approach him about it. To praise him, to reassure him that he wasn’t a complete failure to you. He doesn’t feel important.”

“ _Shit_.”

Liam stared at the table for a very long time looking possessed, and Harry wasn’t sure what else to say to his friend.

“I take complete responsibility,” Liam said, “but I just don’t—if he’s feeling something like that, like if he’s feeling that upset, I just don’t see why he wouldn’t _tell_ me.  We tell each other everything. Literally, everything. That’s why I’ve been going mad over here myself—it makes no sense how he’s been shutting me out—”

“But it _does,”_ Harry said passionately, glad that they had gotten to the point he really wanted to make Liam understand. “It makes tons of sense.  He’s been put in an extremely vulnerable position.  _Extremely_ vulnerable. You, on the other hand, weren’t. _You_ had the power that night, _you_ made the decisions that night, so…ball’s in your court, as they say. He wouldn’t feel comfortable approaching you about this like he normally would about anything else because it was such a massive thing that he experienced.  He’s still in the state of mind where he looks to you for everything. He’s waiting for you to say something first.”

Liam sighed.  “God, I’m _such a fuck-up_ ….”  His face was a mixture of anguish and puzzlement.  “It’s just…I _tried_ —We talked about using that dildo for _forever_ though…and same with the cage…We really did, Harry.  We talked about everything.  I—I _tried_ —“

Liam looked strangely like he was going to cry.  “I had all intentions of making sure he was okay afterwards, too.  We kissed all night, and we cuddled afterwards…Just…I didn’t have the time that morning to mention it because I was trying to let him sleep. I honestly was trying to do everything correctly.  I fucking _care_ about him,” he finished, watery eyes spilling over into two little rivulets.

“I know you care about him, Liam,” Harry said softly.  “Sometimes, even if you do everything you need to, this stuff can still happen.  ‘S why you’ve gotta keep checking in on him, asking questions, making sure he’s all right.  ‘Cause feelings’ll pop up.  Bad ones.  And that shit’s real. Like, he’s stuck in his head _bad_ , man.”

Liam stood up to collect himself.  He paced the kitchen and even went as far as the lounge as he tried to regain his composure and stop crying. He sniffed the air. “Have you all been smoking in here?”

“Just a really tiny spliff,” Harry answered honestly, “but the relaxed mood has sort of left in light of the situation at hand.”

Liam heavily sighed. “That worries me. He shouldn’t be smoking that stuff right now.”

“It’s probably the only way he’s been able to deal with his emotions,” Harry honestly told Liam. “Which are all over the place, as you already know.”

Liam nodded and tried to sneakily wipe the sides of his eyes.

“When you do this type of thing that we do,” Harry kept talking, “it’s _deeper_ than just sex, you know?  It’s…it’s _emotional_.  Full of trust and love and— _everything._ ” He paused a minute, Liam nodding at him in agreement. “And then there’s the actual sex part, too, which is most always intense when we’re all together. All of those things make it a really heightened experience. For everyone.”

“Yeah,” Liam agreed lightly. “It’s been the best I’ve ever had. Being with Zayn.”

“Right,” Harry said.  “So imagine how it is for _him_ , then. It’s a heightened experience for _you_ , but what do you think _he’s_ feeling?”

“Yeah…yeah.  You’re right. He’s probably thinking all types of things that I haven’t considered—“

Harry interjected, “He doesn’t even _have_ to think, Liam. That’s just the thing. That’s what this is about: you making the decisions. His mind literally is flooded with so many endorphins that it’s _incomprehensible_ to you how good he’s feeling.

“Imagine how tired _you_ were afterwards. Now think about him. His body went through just as much as yours did, if not more, but coming down from that emotional high in _addition_ to the physical stuff his body went through is, like, crashing off extremely hard drugs after running a marathon. He hasn’t had the chance to get back up to his normal levels because he thinks he’s done something wrong. He’s just kind of been slumming about, waiting to be lifted back up again.”

Liam nodded again. Everything made perfect sense to him now, and he remembered reading about it—he _did_ —but nothing could really prepare him for this happening in real life.

“…And that’s why he’s been sleeping so much. That’s why he’s been calling me mean,” Liam said with a miniscule, self-deprecating smile.  He hoped with every single cell he possessed that Zayn would forgive him.

The two were very quiet for a long time, and the air was dense with emotion.

“Don’t be quite so hard on yourself, Liam,” Harry broke the silence. “It’s happened to me before, too.”

When Liam’s eyebrows rose, Harry nodded seriously. “I didn’t know what it was at first either. I just knew that Louis had gotten rather cranky one day, like, really foul, and I hadn’t made any connection to what we’d done the day before.” 

Harry played with his thumbs as he continued, “He hadn’t been sleeping well, had been moody and picking fights with me to test my boundaries, see if I’d react how he wanted, and I didn’t know what it was about, so I got cross with him for being cross with me. Basically because he wanted to see how much I cared.”

Harry smiled self-deprecatingly. “He’d stayed up for over fifty hours and I hadn’t known about it when he decided to sneak out and drive all night to Doncaster to see his mum.”

Liam’s mouth was agape as he put new information together. “…That’s the night he drove off the road?”

Harry nodded heavily.

Liam finally let go of all of his defenses and sat down again in front of Harry. He took a shaky breath.  “I’m sorry, man…”

“It’s fine. I know better now,” Harry said seriously. “I just wanted to tell you that because I punished myself for a very, very long time about it. Like, Louis could’ve seriously been injured. He could’ve _died_.”  Harry tried to shake all the thoughts and feelings that came with that particular memory away when he looked back up at Liam. “But look at us now. It takes a lot of communication, a lot of raw openness. But it’ll be all right.”

Liam looked afraid. “What would your advice have been, then?” he asked. “Saturday morning, he told me he wanted to go home. Didn’t want me to go with him. That should’ve been sign number one, but…” Liam sighed.  “What would you have done?  I mean—what else was there to do?”

“Take him back into the room you slept in and talk with him one-on-one. Get him away from me and Louis and Niall. Go someplace all by yourselves. Give him attention, tell him you’re proud, ask him how he liked everything, check in on his feelings, make sure he eats…Let him know that his health is not an option. That _walking_ _home alone_ is not an option. Show him you care.”

Liam was silent again for a very long time before resolutely nodding his head and meeting Harry’s eyes.  “Can I—Do you think I could show him I care now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the ending... :/
> 
> Last chapter: Will everything be okay with Zayn and Liam?, the holidays are coming up, Louis celebrates his birthday in a big way, NIALL makes an appearance...
> 
> Yay!
> 
> Thanks again for reading, guys!! Of course, feel free to give me ideas and comments and thoughts and stuff because I'd love to hear them even if I have been not the greatest at replying lately. I will reply.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Louis and Zayn heart-to-heart. Zayn and Liam realize there's more to bdsm than just sex, and they get really emotional together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo.... Hi, everyone!
> 
> Let me start off by saying I have complete and legitimate excuses for taking SIX FREAKING MONTHS (?!) to update this, but I won't bother you with them. I will instead bother you with excuses ABOUT the chapter, not for its tardiness.
> 
> So, I hadn't planned on writing most of this chapter. It was going to be maybe 5k Ziam. Now it's almost 95% Ziam. Sorry, non-Ziam fans. The good news is that the next chapter (the REAL last chapter) is about half-way written, won't take six more months for me to publish, and is more Larry and OT5 (just warning you if that's not your thing.)
> 
> The reason most of the Ziam thing happened was because it just sort of occurred that way because I wanted to include Louis' perspective on things. Then The Entire Month of March happened and that just perpetuated everything, so I got really emo with it. And I have been riding an emotional roller coaster ever since. Because Zayn.
> 
> And that's that. Sorry if you absolutely hate this chapter because it's different than all the rest, but like I said--good things are around the corner.
> 
> AND AS ALWAYS THANKS FOR READING YOU LOVELY PEOPLE!!

**Past**

Harry never switched off his mobile—not even in the middle of the night—nor did he ever put it on silent. 

Though this often equated to receiving a lot of meaningless, drunken phone calls at odd hours due to his being friends with so many people in different time zones, Harry still never wavered about this habit, not even when Louis complained that it ruined his sleep. The way Harry always put it to Louis was, “You never know when somebody on the other end of the line will actually need you, you know?”

And a particular night long ago confirmed that statement to Harry.

Blearily, Harry opened his eyes as the sound of something extremely loud assaulted his ears. He immediately groaned at being woken; Louis always messed around with his ringtones without telling him, and the song currently playing was horribly annoying and had just jolted him out of a dead sleep.

Harry blindly felt for his phone on the nightstand, and when he lifted it and noticed his favorite picture of Louis displayed on the screen there, he blinked a few times in succession before turning to the side. Louis wasn’t beside him in bed anymore. He looked back to his mobile. Louis was phoning him. And it was—Harry checked the clock—three in the morning.

_What the hell?_

Harry’s voice sounded like scratchy molasses when he spoke into the phone. “Hello?”

There was no response, only incomprehensible conversation in the background, and Harry’s eyebrows wrinkled together. He cleared his throat and repeated, “Hello?”

Harry thought he could hear Louis’ voice, but he couldn’t be sure. There seemed to be a lot of commotion going on, and that just made the confusion thicker. Harry knew that Louis had been being rather short with him all day—or, the past two days, really—but they weren’t actually _fighting_ or anything. So where had he run off to? And, more importantly, was he okay?

“Louis,” Harry said louder.

Fully awake now, Harry sat up entirely in bed, listening attentively to whatever he could. He grew increasingly worried and unhappy when all he could decipher were other far-away male voices but still no Louis.

Harry began thinking about what on earth could be going on. Had Louis gone to see somebody? Sometimes when he and Harry were rowing, Louis needed space and would leave the house, but it was three in the morning, he hadn’t left a note, and _they weren’t even really fighting_. So what was it? Was Louis—was Louis out drinking or something? Is that what was going on? Was Harry just being pocket-dialed by a drunk boyfriend?

“Louis!” Harry tried again.

When he was met with still more racket and then finally silence, he moved his phone from his ear to realize the call had ended.

So, Harry switched on the nightstand lamp and immediately rang Louis back. There was no answer. He swung his legs off the side of the bed and tried again. Still—no answer. He didn’t know whether to be angry or anxious. After trying two more times, he stood up and nervously paced. He had no clue what to do. This really had never happened. Louis always told him where he was.

Maybe he’d left a note.

Harry looked at the usual places first—his own nightstand, the kitchen worktop, the refrigerator, the coffee table. He even checked every room of the house just to be sure, but Louis hadn’t left anything anywhere. As Harry first concluded, Louis had probably snuck out to go drinking.

Harry wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Harry contemplated texting the lads, casually asking if they knew where Louis was and if maybe one of them was with him, but because of the time (and also because he didn’t want to worry _them_ ), he decided against it. He resigned to just sitting on the sofa and watching television. That way he figured he’d be close enough to the door to hear when Louis came back.

Except Louis never did.

***

Johannah had half-heartedly sighed when Louis called her. Though she was working, she wouldn’t ignore her son. It was commonplace for him to contact her at this time—two in the morning—but almost always, it was because something was bothering him.

“Hey, love,” she answered. “You okay?”

“I’m on my way to see you,” Louis said.

“Come again?”

“I’m driving up to see you,” he repeated.

“Darling—well—what is it? Everything okay?”

Louis took a deep breath so his mum wouldn’t catch on that he’d been crying. “What, I can’t visit you and the girls? I haven’t seen any of you in months.”

“Of course you can visit. And we miss you, as well. Just…”

She forced herself to refrain from lecturing Louis about the hazards of driving when it was so late, so _dark_ out. Louis was an adult now, and she needed to stop babying him. Besides, it certainly wasn’t the first time Louis had made the trip, nor the first time he’d made the trip at such an early hour. She remembered back to her birthday this year. Louis had driven up so early, he had time to sneak inside and surprise her with breakfast and flowers before the sun had even risen.

Despite that happy memory, she sighed. “Just text me when you arrive, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Louis agreed.

“Okay, well, I won’t finish up until seven, so just let yourself inside.”

“Sure.”

No other cars were on the road. Louis would probably arrive earlier than he’d expected.

“And you know the girls have begun taking over your room, so either wake up whoever’s in there or take the sofa.” As an afterthought, she wondered why he was actually choosing this time to drive. All he’d admitted to was missing everybody back home, but surely he could’ve waited a few more hours, gotten some more sleep.

“…You’re okay to drive, yeah?” Jay asked.

“What d’you mean?” Louis asked, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

“You’ve not been drinking or anything, have you?”

Louis’ eyes were still watery, and he forced out a wet laugh at the mere thought of him drinking in the state he was already in. He’d probably crash the damn car. “No, Mum.”

“Okay…Just making sure you’re alert, love. It’s not the shortest drive.”

“I am,” Louis replied. But no, that was a lie. The biggest lie on earth, Louis supposed, because not only had he not gotten any sleep last night, he hadn’t slept at _all_ in maybe—two days now? Going on three? But whatever. He could fake being alert. He looked to his coffee— _blurgh_ —resting in the cup-holder of the car to prove this to himself. “I make this drive all the time. I’m good.”

“All right, all right,” Jay appeased. “Can’t wait to see you, darling. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

It was maybe an hour later when it happened. Louis couldn’t even blame it on the weather because it wasn’t even raining. Maybe it was just the wetness in his eyes, then, that caused him to veer off the road. Or maybe, after endless hours of being awake, he’d actually fallen asleep. Who really knew? The same end result occurred either way: a totaled car and a massive concussion that could’ve been much, much worse.

When the paramedics came, somebody had accidentally jostled Louis’ phone in the disorder of removing him from his vehicle and loading him onto the stretcher. Once he was securely inside the ambulance, he’d begun getting sick on himself, but he wasn’t cognizant enough to remember any of it.

***

Eight o’clock came, and Jay returned home to a house full of all of her children except one, one that certainly should’ve arrived by now. In confusion, she immediately rang Louis and put a hand to her mouth at the foreign voice on the other end of the line telling her some of the worst news she’d heard in her life.

Speeding south, Johannah phoned Harry once she’d come to her senses. “Harry—Louis’ been in an accident,” was her greeting once Harry accepted the call.

Harry stood up from the sofa he’d been sat on for five hours, catatonic. “What?”

“He’s in the hospital. I’m on my way there now.”

Jay then told Harry the address, and Harry’s head spun at the sudden information. What the hell was Louis doing _there_? That was, like, four counties away. “What?” he repeated. “What happened? Is he okay?”

“He’s okay, but I don’t know much. Just—just, please come.”

“Okay,” Harry replied. “Okay, yeah, I’m—I’m leaving now.”

Louis’ mum sounded extremely distressed. “Okay. Drive safe, Harry.”

“Okay,” Harry repeated. Delayed, he added, “You too,” before hanging up. He found his keys and rushed out of the house before realizing he wasn’t even properly dressed, so after running back inside, he threw on some clothes and bolted to his vehicle. During the entire trip, he kept the radio off.

“Do you know more about what happened? Has anyone told you anything?” Harry asked Jay inside the hospital room. They were both sat on either side of Louis’ bed, and, having arrived at the hospital at separate times, Harry wasn’t sure what extra information Louis’ mum had.

Johannah’s eyes were red, but she seemed to be keeping herself together well. Definitely better than Harry was. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

“They said he crashed his car on the motorway and was knocked out from the impact,” she answered. “They’ve already done a lot of tests. He doesn’t have any cuts or anything, just bruising and a concussion. They’ve ruled out neck and back injuries, as well, thank God. Now he’s just under observation.”

“Was anyone else involved?” Harry asked, sniffing. “Like—like, was Louis the only—?”

“It was just him,” Jay confirmed. “Crashed into a guardrail. The entire left part of his car is demolished. It’s a miracle the driver’s side was untouched. It could’ve been—it could’ve been a lot worse. He could’ve—”

“Thanks for talking about me like I’m not here,” Louis croaked, squinting an eye open.

Johannah and Harry both looked at Louis at the same time. Harry’s head fell in his hands. He didn’t know what was going on exactly, wouldn’t completely know until later, but he was self-aware enough to realize that something he’d done—or rather, many things he _hadn’t_ done—had caused Louis to want to escape and seek out comfort from his family in Doncaster. The guilt literally picked at his skin, and he openly cried.

“How are you feeling?” Harry asked thickly.

“Tired as hell,” he muttered. He closed his eyes again.

His mum was quick to advise, “Try to keep your eyes open. You shouldn’t sleep. Not yet.”

“Yeah, Mum, I know,” Louis said haughtily. “They won’t let me do a fucking thing, will they?”

Jay didn’t say anything about Louis’ rudeness, but it was clear from her face that Louis’ words had hurt her, and Louis winced in apology. He felt like he couldn’t do anything right. Nothing. Literally, nothing. Louis felt like crying, but something was holding him back. He was attached to all these tubes—he even had tubes in his _nose_ , for Christ’s sake—and he was sad and confused and achy and worst of all, _lonesome_ even with his two favorite people in the room, and all he could do was stare ahead of him. His frown deepened when he saw a board on the wall there that told him his name, the date, and what had happened to him. Like he had memory loss or something. Jesus.

Harry held Louis’ hand and shamelessly whispered affectionate words to him, anything to get him to cheer up. It took a long time for that to actually happen, however—for Louis to be cheery once more. A long time.

 

* * *

 

**Present**

Liam hesitated as he stood up from the table. Harry had just given him a lot of information. Almost too much to process. All of these _terms_ , all of these _definitions_ …Fuck, he felt like a fool for not reading up on that stuff.

“What if I say all the wrong things,” he muttered while wringing his hands in an effort to not bite his fingernails. He felt an uncommon urge to smoke a cigarette. Or to jump from a building. But mostly just to wrap his arms around Zayn, squeeze him to his chest, and never let him go. He just loved him _so much._

He began pacing. “This is just terrible, what if he’s decided he’s through with me…”

Liam’s face was pained, and Harry looked at him in pity.

Harry knew Liam well, knew that despite his normally confident and cheery demeanor, Liam had a small, dusty area inside his brain where he boxed up all of his insecurities. Hidden but still _there_ , Liam’s self-doubts stemmed from a lifetime of being scrawny and awkward, from saying words with good intentions only to receive backlash, from trying his best again and again only to be rejected.

Though Liam had come a long way from the boy Harry had first met so long ago, it only made sense that he’d still be insecure regarding one of the most important people in his life, a person whose feelings and opinions Liam greatly valued almost above anybody else’s.

 _Zayn_.

Liam couldn’t even bear the _thought_ of losing him.

“From someone who’s been there before,” Harry advised, “I would just stay confident, Li. Stay yourself. You love Zayn, and you know he loves you, too—so much. So…just go in there and be who he fell in love with. Take care of him like only you know how to do. He needs comfort, and he needs to know he’s important. He just needs your attention. You can give him that.”

“But what do I even—“

Harry held up a hand. “Liam, I know you don’t know exactly what to say, but there’s no real script for this. Like I said, just…be yourself. That’s who he needs. It’ll be okay.”

Liam breathed in a great lungful of air, and, after an extended exhale, shifted his eyes to Harry. With a small smile, he nodded determinedly and said, “All right. Okay.”

He could do this.

 

* * *

 

The only light in the guest-room Louis and Zayn occupied came from a night-light plugged in the wall, and in the dimness, the pair huddled closely together on the bed. Under warm blankets, Zayn was snuggled onto Louis’ bare chest, all smooth and warm, and Louis’ arm was safe and secure around Zayn, his fingers constantly breezing through the other boy’s soft hair to keep him focused on relaxing.

Nonetheless, Louis had only succeeded a miniscule amount in soothing Zayn. Zayn was clearly still in doubt about what he was even experiencing, but Louis knew that if Zayn could just put a name to what was going on (and, more importantly, _why)_ , he’d probably feel a lot more stable.

Just…How exactly did someone break it to someone else that they were experiencing sub drop? While they were actually still experiencing it?

Technically, Louis _could_ explain everything scientifically to Zayn. He could talk about how the brain worked—the neurons and neurotransmitters and the rest of the jargon he learned from extensive research about this very subject in the past after he’d wrecked his car—but he knew that Zayn didn’t need to hear any of that just yet. He wasn’t in the correct state-of-mind to understand any of it at the moment, anyway.

Zayn’s crying had changed from pathetic whimpers and then back to helpless sobs again when Louis decided that, in order to truly help Zayn understand what he was actually currently going through, he should probably share his own similar experience from last year. Zayn needed something he could emotionally relate to, and Louis figured that telling his story would reach Zayn where he needed it the most right now: his heart. The actual _terms_ for what was going on would just have to be defined along the way.

“I—I know exactly what you’re going through, love,” Louis admitted softly. “I’ve felt like you before, too…just like you. It’s—all of this—has happened to me, too. This very same feeling. I promise, it’s normal. It can be natural to feel...well, _bad_ sometimes. After feeling really good.”

Louis rolled his eyes at himself since Zayn couldn’t see. He hadn’t even begun truly saying anything and was already doing a shit job at this. He was happy, however, when, with an odd mixture of hope and speculation in his eyes, Zayn lifted his head and looked at Louis.

Louis looked back. “I-I know it doesn’t make much sense, but. I’ll tell you about what happened to me if you’d like.”

So Zayn just nodded.

“You think you want to hear it?”

Zayn nodded again. “If you say it’s happened to you before, too, then, yeah, I want to know,” he murmured before sniffling and placing his head down again. “I want to know I’m not completely mental.”

“You’re not,” was Louis’ only reply. Once Zayn was situated again, lulled a bit by the noise from the outside storm, Louis paused as he thought of how he was going to phrase what he wanted to say next.  He took a deep breath.

“Okay…so,” Louis disclosed slowly and carefully, “I guess I’ll just jump right in, then. It was about a year ago. The night was… _eventful_. Eventful like last Friday was for everyone, like really intense, but this night it was obviously just me and Harry. We were upstairs in the bedroom, and…stuff happened, I guess, and…Harry was going to spank me. With a belt.”

He paused like he wanted to check with Zayn that he was still okay hearing this. He remembered Zayn telling him about the time Liam used a belt on _him_. Maybe Louis was about to get into a touchy area?

“Go on,” Zayn finally said after a long stretch of silence.

“I ended up stark naked on my back with my legs by my face, arse high up in the air, just holding the backs of my knees by my ears so I would stay like that for Harry.”

Zayn nestled impossibly further into Louis. His voice was a whisper. “That sounds embarrassing.”

“I reckon that’s the point of that position,” Louis replied just as soft. “Being on display like that while getting spanked. Feeling vulnerable. Feeling embarrassed.”

“Like what I did. But what I did was probably the most embarrassing thing _ever_.”

Louis let out a small hum as his fingers remained a calm presence along Zayn’s scalp. “You can still like something that’s embarrassing, love. There’s nothing wrong with that. Some people get off on the embarrassment part—like me. I love it. If it’s done with someone you care about, it can be quite enjoyable, you know? So the night I’m talking about, it made me feel a little awkward, yeah, but deep down, I liked the position.”

 _Still do_ , Louis had as an afterthought.

Hearing Louis’ assurance only made Zayn feel somewhat better. After all, Liam had told him before, too, that it was okay to feel nervous or embarrassed and still _like_ wearing the cock cage, but that still didn’t change the fact that Liam secretly thought Zayn was gross and disgusting…secretly wished that he weren’t such a massive freak for enjoying it to the extent that he had.

Liam was probably at home busying himself with social media or something. Or finishing up dinner without Zayn, careless as to where he’d had even gone. Instead of mustering up any sort of reply to Louis, Zayn only snuffled pathetically.

Zayn knew he had to focus on just giving his lungs air or else he’d give in to his sorrowful thoughts, tighten up, and begin crying yet again. And _God_ , he was just so fucking _tired of crying_. To pacify himself, he consciously copied Louis’ steady breathing patterns until he felt the sharp and familiar spikes of self-hatred dissipate inside himself once more.

“So…what happened?” he finally asked once he’d swallowed away the next set of tears he had felt coming on.

“Harry spanked me,” Louis answered out into in the motionless room. “And it was…extreme. Actually hurt quite a lot. And…I liked it. I liked feeling the pain. It intensified everything. Made me feel good. Real good.” When a little moment of silence passed, Louis asked, “Did you—can you relate to that?”

Louis could feel a small nod against his chest, and with his free hand, Louis found Zayn’s fingers and interlocked them inside his own.

“I mean,” Zayn started, “it wasn’t like…I can’t imagine it being like the pain from a belt on bare skin or anything, but…it hurt in its own way, yeah.”

“I imagine so,” Louis gently answered in understanding as his thumb stroked Zayn’s knuckles. “It was more of a continuous pain, yeah? You’d worn the thing for the entire day.”

“And the night before,” Zayn corrected quietly. “But…I liked it. I liked all of it.”

Louis heard some hesitation in that statement and was quick to reassure again, “Which is _fine_ , Z. Your feelings are _legitimate_ and _okay_. Like I said, there is absolutely _nothing_ wrong with feeling that way.”

Zayn sighed. “That’s what Liam said.”

Louis stilled in confusion. “I thought you hadn’t—When’d you talk to Liam about it?”

“The night he put it on. Thursday night,” Zayn clarified. “I—I liked it but still felt _weird_ for liking it, and he told me it was all okay, that he’d take it off…that I didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want to. But…I wanted to,” he finished shamefully. He could feel himself beginning to despair again.

“See, babe?” Louis asked gently. “He cares. He cares so much. He loves you.”

Zayn felt like arguing, though, and he shook his head as he loudly voiced, “Just because he told me that it was okay—that I didn’t have to wear it if I didn’t want to—doesn’t mean that he _liked_ it when I _did_ wear it, though.”

“But he _did_ like it,” Louis contradicted resolutely. “He absolutely liked it, Zayn.”

“You don’t _know_ that,” Zayn said in misery. His breathing quickened, and it became hard for him to get satisfying breaths. Weighed down with immense stress, all he could do was painfully squeeze Louis’ hand as his chest hitched. “He never said anything about it—that _entire_ _night_ —and after he came inside me—he just fucking _went to sleep_ —“

“Zayn, darling, _shhh_ ,” Louis soothed, and his fingers moved from Zayn’s hand to rub up and down Zayn’s arm instead. He didn’t know how to respond. Liam should’ve definitely talked to Zayn about everything, but Louis wouldn’t voice that just yet. He was trying to make Zayn feel better, not cause a clash against his boyfriend or anything.

Louis honestly couldn’t be sure if he remembered hearing Liam actually praise Zayn that night or not, but he _was_ certain about something else. “I mean, I only saw his face—or paid attention to his face, rather—for just a tiny little bit before everything really got started, Z, but it was very, very clear that he liked everything. I’m not lying—I’m not just saying that. The way he looks at you, babe…it’s—”

“—It’s not the _same_ ,” Zayn still tried to argue, for some reason not wanting to admit that Louis could be correct. “Looking back, I—I feel like it must’ve been disgusting! It _had_ to’ve looked disgusting, my body like that.”

Before Louis could retort, Zayn splayed out his hand on Louis’ chest and pushed himself up so he was no longer lying down. Now looking down at Louis, Zayn continued as he pointed to his chest, “And I _cried,_ Louis. I cried a fucking lot. During sex! What normal person would behave like that and fucking _derive pleasure out of it_ —or—or—or cry _because_ they _were_ in pleasure—what kind of pathetic loser would—”

“Mate, I cried that entire night meself,” Louis admitted with large, sincere eyes as he pushed himself up to a seated position. “Practically cried right on top of you. And I cry other times during sex, too,” he went on a bit louder, “if I good and well feel like it—because it’s _good_ crying. You’ve seen me do it, matter of fact. Sometimes a person just needs to cry, you know? It’s—it’s a good thing, yeah? A release, like. I’m telling you, Zayn, it’s _okay_. You’re not a—you’re not a _loser_ , Zayn. Please don’t think that. You’re not. It’s okay to cry. It’s _okay_.”

Zayn sat back on his haunches and looked out into the dark, still room with his arms wrapped around his own waist. Funnily enough, though he was presently discussing feeling stupid for crying, Zayn’s shadowy eyes brimmed with hot tears again, and if possible, Louis’ face softened even more.

Louis rested his back against the bed’s headboard. Now that he and Zayn were more on eye-level, he implored Zayn look at him by placing a hand on his knee, and, because there was no point, Zayn didn’t bother wiping his eyes before he did so.

Louis couldn’t take what he saw once the brown of Zayn’s eyes met the blue of his own. Though the room was dim, Zayn’s face was noticeably hollow. His face was scruffy. There were bags under his eyes—hell, _around_ his eyes, like they were sunken in. He was just so _sad_ , and it hurt so badly to witness. Louis began doubting his ability to even properly help Zayn right now. What Zayn really needed was _Liam_.

“It’s completely okay, love,” Louis said for the thousandth time, his voice actually cracking a bit. “Everything’s okay. You’re not wrong or _bad_ for thinking what you think or doing what you do. You can feel a bit embarrassed and have feelings that are powerful and positive and—and—and _good_ , and maybe you might cry a bit because everything is quite a lot to handle—but in a good way. It’s _okay_. It really is.”

Zayn’s shoulders slumped.

Truthfully, that was essentially what he was having the most trouble with: actually coming to terms with simply liking what he liked. With feeling like it was okay and _acceptable_ to like what he liked.

It was just–most normal people didn’t get aroused by the things that he did.

He had worn a _cock_ _cage_ for Liam and had shown it off. To everyone in the room. Legs spread wide open. While sharing a dildo with Louis. And even though he’d obviously loved wearing the cage, he’d _cried_ and _begged_ for Liam to have mercy on him and remove it. Multiple times from what he could remember. Because it turned him on to have to beg. Because it turned him on to have to rely on Liam. _God_.

So _how_ , in any way, could that be considered normal? How could Liam have looked at him in those moments and have felt attraction in any regard whatsoever?

And, since Zayn was already piling up the embarrassing things from that night, he began dwelling on every single detail he remembered while his eyes scorched, while his face shone with more tears. His mouth turned downwards and he _whimpered_ because he recollected that after he and Louis were finished, it had only gotten _worse_.

When Liam finally did remove the cage, he had fucked Zayn on the floor, every inch of Zayn’s skin on display for everyone to witness. And Zayn had _wanted_ everyone to look at him, had _wanted_ everyone to hear him, had _wanted_ everyone to witness him being slutty and taking Liam’s cock so well. He was a slut, _he was a slut_ —

And _then_ Liam had sometime along the course of the night carried Zayn into a bedroom and fucked him in there too, right into the mattress until their bodies had left behind indentions. Until the sweat-covered sheets matted to Zayn’s stomach like hot, hot skin. He’d gotten fucked until he was pink and overheated and high, until he had given _every last bit of himself_ to Liam, until everything felt so _good_ and so _much_ that all he could do was contort his face and weep.

And Zayn had loved it, all of it.

And it was shameful.

But here was Louis—being _great_ , being _comforting_ , being _reassuring_. Telling Zayn time and time again that he wasn’t going mad, that everything he was feeling was okay, was normal, that even he himself had supposedly felt the exact same way before…

Zayn just didn’t get it. How could it be _normal_ for all of those dirty things to feel so inextricably pleasurable? And how could it be _normal_ for a person to feel such regret directly after it all? How?

“So…when did _this_ part happen to you?” Zayn asked Louis after taking a long, controlled breath. He finally wiped his eyes and shifted on the bed to lean back against the headboard with Louis. His chest was still shaky and his stomach kept oddly jumping, but at least he was keeping _some_ control just by continuing to speak.

“Hm?”

“You said you’ve gone through feeling like I’m feeling now,” Zayn said shakily. “When did that start? I really need to know I’m not fucking crazy. Because I’m feeling pretty fucking crazy right now, mate.”

Louis instantaneously replied, “You’re not crazy,” but then struggled with how to express the next part of his story.

Louis hated this. He hated all of this. He remembered what had happened to him, remembered feeling what Zayn was feeling now—massive _horridness_ —and he desperately wanted to find the words to say to Zayn that he himself would’ve liked to have heard back then. He sighed.

Louis was silent for a long time before finally answering Zayn, “It happened sometime later, the feeling bad bit. First, something else happened.” The rain falling outside sounded loud in the long interval between his words. “So…I just said that crying during sex is fine, yeah? Okay…normal… _natural_ …”

Zayn played with his hands in his lap. “Yeah.”

“Well, that night—the night I’m telling you about—everything felt so…so _unbelievably_ good that…not only did I cry, but I...” Louis paused. “Are you…familiar maybe…with subspace? You know what that is, right?”

Louis felt a strange déjà vu. He remembered speaking about stuff like this with Zayn before, months and months ago. Crying during sex, safe-words, stuff like that. He had no clue if they had brought up subspace before, though. Obviously, Zayn had seen enough from Louis and Harry to realize how spacy it was possible to get after sex, but being spacy and being in _subspace_ were two totally different things.

“I mean…yeah,” Zayn answered as he shrugged, still staring at his hands as they pointlessly pulled at the bedsheets on his lap. “Was in that book we borrowed.”

“Right,” Louis said. “The book. The book…” He sighed again, a never-ending sound because he felt so inadequate to handle this. He and Harry _had_ given Liam and Zayn the book to help them out a bit, but now he wished they’d all just sat and talked in person about this stuff instead. “The book says what it’s _supposed_ to feel like, or what _some_ people go through when they experience it, but it can be kind of different when it actually happens to a person in real life. Words alone aren’t the same as an actual emotion, yeah?”

Zayn just nodded, wanting Louis to continue. For some reason, Louis didn’t; he stared at the ceiling instead.

“So… that happened to you?” Zayn tried to clarify. “Subspace?”

“Yeah.”

Zayn didn’t appear to be catching on, but Louis wasn’t about to just nonchalantly tell Zayn he had most likely been in subspace when he so obviously hadn’t figured it out yet. Instead, Louis went on, “…I hadn’t ever felt it before, not like what it felt like that night. So, I didn’t…really… _know_ what it was called at the time. But yeah.”

Zayn made a small noise to show he was paying attention. “What did it feel like for you, then?”

This was where Louis was going to break through to Zayn. At least, he hoped. “It just felt like… _weird_ at first. Muddled. Like Harry was there with me—having _sex_ with me—but was far away at the same time. And I felt all… tingly and stinging from the belt…but still _high_ and happy and taken care of, too. Just—the best feeling.”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Zayn agreed, nodding his head and finally looking at Louis with eyes that showed the first bit of pleased emotion Louis had seen all night. “That’s exactly—that’s what I remember feeling like, too, kind of.”

Louis paused in wait for Zayn to make the expected connection to his own experience. He tried to keep his face calm and impassive, but he must’ve just barely lifted his eyebrows as if he were saying, “ _Aaaand put it together, Zayn, put it together_ …” because a few moments later, Zayn stilled.

Zayn fish-mouthed and twisted his torso to completely face Louis. “But… _wait_.”

The look on Zayn’s face coupled with how fast he whipped his head to the side would’ve almost been comical, but Louis didn’t laugh.

“Are you trying to say that I—does that mean that I—?”

Louis just looked at him and gave him time to process the new connections he was clearly making.

“But that’s…” Zayn stammered. He pointed to his chest. “You’re saying that happened to me? I went—I was in subspace?”

Louis nodded. He bit his lip.

“What?” Zayn muttered to himself, running his fingers through his messy hair. “But I _read_ about it…How could I not realize…How could I just not _know_ that’s what—?”

Louis reached out to Zayn’s hand and held it in his own again. He spoke very slowly. “If you’re not used to feeling it—like I was just telling you I had never felt that way with Harry before?—then obviously you can’t just identify it... You just…you just… _feel_ it.”

“I guess I’m just stupid in every way possible,” Zayn said. He shook his hand out of Louis’ grip.

“You’re _not_ stupid, Zayn,” Louis replied. “You’re going through a lot of stuff right now.”

“I still should’ve—“

Louis stopped Zayn. “No, you shouldn’t’ve done or realized _anything_ , Zayn. Subspace is a really intense thing. Like I said, if you’ve never experienced it, you aren’t responsible for recognizing it. Actually, even if you have experienced it before, you’re still not responsible. The very essence of subspace is letting go so you don’t have to be responsible for anything.”

“Okay, man, wait,” Zayn suddenly responded, his voice the loudest it’d been yet, his hands gesticulating in front of him. “You said you’ve felt like me before. So you meant subspace? Yeah, maybe I went into subspace, Louis, and maybe I’m an idiot because I couldn’t even piece that together, but I still don’t get it. Subspace is a good thing. All of what you’re saying is good stuff. Even the crying part. This makes no sense. You said it’d make sense. You said the bad feelings would fucking make sense.”

“Right, just calm down,” Louis placated. He gingerly scooted closer to Zayn and put his arm around him. “Okay. Well. Sometimes…Sometimes, after a person experiences subspace, it’s possible to… _crash_ , in a sense.”

“So a person goes in subspace and then feels like utter shit afterward,” Zayn repeated in a dull voice. “Great. Excellent.”

“No, not necessarily,” Louis replied, kissing Zayn’s hair when Zayn let his head rest on Louis’ shoulder. “They just…sometimes _might_ feel bad afterward.”

“Still makes no sense.”

Louis braced himself to just rip off the plaster in one go. He took a deep breath. “You remember reading about subspace, you said. Somewhere after that in the book it talks about some other stuff, yeah? Like—other things that can happen after a scene. You remember reading about that?”

Zayn shook his head. “We just looked at most of the A-Z stuff and made lists of things that we’d like to try.”

“Then…how’d you read about subspace?”

“On one of those pages it had this warning about it that I remember reading. One of those side columns. We didn’t make it to the parts at the end of the book, though, if that’s what you’re talking about.”

“You—wow, okay,” Louis muttered. That wasn’t what he was expecting to hear. He scrubbed imaginary dirt off his face with his free hand while lifting his other arm from Zayn at the same time.

“W-what?” asked Zayn, growing confused by Louis’ reaction. “Why does that matter?”

“…Okay. The, er, _crash_ after subspace actually has a name. It’s called sub drop. That something you’ve heard of before?”

“No,” Zayn answered darkly. “Of course not, because we’ve established that I’m stupid.”

“You are _not_. You’re one of the smartest people I know, Zayn. So you haven’t heard about sub drop before. That’s okay. I’ll—I’m here to help you. Tell you what it is.”

Zayn let out a fatigued sigh. “Sorry. Really, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so difficult.”

“You’re perfect,” said Louis.

“ _You_ are, mate,” Zayn answered. He looked to Louis apologetically. “This drop thing, then…?”

“Sub drop. It’s an actual thing that can happen for…various reasons. But to make the most sense, it usually happens after coming out of subspace because a person can’t always...come back to reality without a lot of extra support from their partner.”

With how slowly his mind was operating at the moment, Zayn had to really concentrate on everything Louis said.  He was about to ask Louis to keep going on with his story when he finally realized what Louis was implying to him, and his mouth slackened.

Zayn’s voice was thick and shaky, suffering like never before. “That happened to me, too, didn’t it?”

“It’s—Zayn,” Louis said in a small voice. He put his arm around Zayn’s shoulder again. “It’s…it’s _happening_ to you.”

Zayn was immobile. “What.”

Louis looked apologetic. God, it was heartbreaking to be the one who had to tell Zayn that. “It’s why you’ve been feeling so strange. So depressed…confused.”

Louis stared at Zayn. Zayn stared ahead of him. The storm raged on outside. Like too much but not enough happening all at once, time went by unmeasured. Zayn wanted a smoke. He slid down the headboard into a completely horizontal position, ultimately covering his face with the blanket. Louis waited a few moments before joining him underneath the covers.

It was even darker there, and Zayn rigidly summarized what Louis had just made him realize. “I was in subspace and didn’t know it. I couldn’t manage to come out of it on my own. I crashed. And have been on a crash since. And didn’t know that either.”

Louis nodded, but Zayn couldn’t see. He cleared his throat. “Yes.”

“What the fuck,” Zayn muttered. “What the fuck.”

Louis snuggled close to Zayn, spooning his body from the side. “It’s okay.”

Zayn’s quiet voice changed so instantly that Louis jumped a bit. “ _No_ , it’s obviously not okay! Stop _say­ing_ that. Because I didn’t know this shit to start with, I’ve ruined the one fucking good thing I had in my life with my fucked up—“

“You haven’t ruined anything, Zayn,” Louis countered. Like the blanket was protecting them from the outside world, both of their voices became loud and raw. “This isn’t your fault!”

“It is!” Zayn replied. “Where’s Liam, mate? Where’s Liam at? He’s at _home_ because he could care less about my bullshit—probably gonna walk away from all of this—shit, _run_ away, actually—and he’s been so fucking good to me! And I ruined it _all!_ I’m a fucking slut—and I’m neurotic—and why would he deal with this rubbish? Why would anyone put up with this?”

“Because he loves you. And you’re not a—”

“Not anymore.”

Louis threw the covers back. He spoke as nicely as he could when he stated, “You’re…not thinking completely clearly, love. He _does_ love you. It’s _Liam_. He’s probably concerned as hell about you. If you want, I can ask Harry to maybe talk to him a little bit about this? Kind of like you and I are doing now. We want to help you two…I mean, more communication could help a lot.”

Zayn ignored Louis to chant up to the ceiling. “I can’t believe this. I don’t think I can handle this. I can’t. I won’t be able to make it through this. I’m so fucking alone.”

“It’ll be all right, it’ll be all right,” Louis reiterated, feeling useless. “It’s happened to lots of people, Zayn. Not just me and not just you. You’re really not alone in this.”

Zayn nodded jerkily. He seemed to just remember that Louis had gone through this part, too. This ridiculously, horribly, astronomically _shit_ feeling. He used the blanket covering his body to scrub his face before asking, “How did you handle everything when you—when it happened to you, then?”

Louis hesitated. “In not so great ways...”

Zayn looked at Louis with intent eyes, and Louis frowned. He hadn’t really wanted to go into the more undesirable part of his story, but he reckoned it had to be done. He rolled over onto his back.

Louis decided that though the negative part of his story was probably necessary, he wasn’t going to tell Zayn any _details_ about what had actually happened. It wasn’t the right time. He couldn’t tell Zayn that the way _he_ dealt with his feelings wasn’t by smoking a lot of weed and running to his mates’ house to cry; it was by sneaking out and driving to Doncaster on absolutely no sleep, wrecking his car, and waking up in a hospital with a worried mum on one side of the bed and an even more worried boyfriend on the other. That would just be detrimental.

“What’d you do?”

“I—well—I tried to go to sleep once Harry did, but I just couldn’t. It was like, _bam_ —suddenly the good feeling went away. Harry was there sleeping, and it was like—okay, everything’s over. But my mind was still on overdrive. My body was still insanely on edge. I couldn’t come to terms with the fact I’d just felt so mind-blowingly good and then it was just…over.”

Zayn nodded. He related to all of that. “So then…?”

“I got out of bed and watched some telly downstairs. All night long without sleeping. By the morning, I was really moody—really _angry_ —and it’d come out of nowhere. I felt like Harry didn’t care about me anymore because he didn’t wake up all night to see where I’d gone, didn’t even notice I’d not slept in the bed all night. So we didn’t—I was really mean to him.”

Zayn nodded. This, too, he could connect with. “What did…sub drop—that’s how sub drop felt like for you? You just felt angry? What exactly did you do? What did Harry do?”

Louis tried to chuckle. “That’s quite a few questions.”

“Sorry. I’m just trying to…I mean, I just want to know everything. It’s helping, in a way. To relate.”

“It’s all right.” Louis smiled gently. “No, I didn’t just feel angry. I felt loads of shitty things. But anger’s the easiest for me to relate to ‘cause I guess I’ve always been more comfortable fighting than being mature and communicating. At least, back then that was the case.”

Louis took a few seconds to process Zayn’s other questions and continued, “It felt horrible. Like—I just had a nasty, _bad_ feeling. What I imagine living with depression would be like. Couldn’t sleep at all, couldn’t think clearly, didn’t want to eat, nothing. For, like, two entire days or more. Which doesn’t really seem like much, but it was a lifetime, honestly. I wanted Harry around me but was pissed when he actually was because…because it was like, I just felt that he should’ve magically understood how I was feeling and fix it. But he didn’t.” Louis paused and shrugged. This was honestly the only time he’d ever talked about this with anyone besides Harry himself, and it was strange. “He _couldn’t_. He can’t’ve known what was going on with me because I…didn’t tell him.”

Zayn stared out into the room.

Trying to get Zayn to relate to this, too, Louis asked, “There’s a big possibility that’s happening to Liam, too, don’t you think?”

“Why, do you?”

“Yes,” Louis answered honestly. “I do. Knowing him, he’s probably trying to give you space because he thinks you’re mad at him. Probably has no clue you’re upset like this.”

Louis braced himself for Zayn once again blaming himself, but this time, Zayn projected outward.

“So if Harry had just _spoken_ to you about it all…you wouldn’t have—it wouldn’t have happened,” Zayn concluded stubbornly. Meaning: if _Liam_ had simply communicated with _him_ afterwards, this wouldn’t have happened.

“Zayn,” Louis said calmly, “I _asked_ Harry to use a belt. Wanted it. Obviously enjoyed it during the moment. So if Harry _knew_ I liked everything and he thought everything was good with me, why would he have kept asking me _if_ I liked it and if everything was good with me, you know? That was his logic. And Liam’s probably, as well, to be fair. This isn’t necessarily the result of a bad Dom. It’s just…a bunch of different things. It just so happened that a lack of communication—on both our parts—with Harry made things worse for me. And it just so _happens_ that your situation is almost identical…if you don’t mind me jumping to that conclusion.”

“Jump all you want,” Zayn muttered. “It’s just that—he should’ve talked to you still. It wouldn’t’ve been that hard. That’s why you felt so bad. That’s why _I_ feel so bad. He could’ve just _talked_ to me…”

“Right,” Louis agreed. “You’re right. But…it’s a two-way street. Liam’s point of view is probably the same as yours—that if something was wrong, _you’d_ talk to _him_ about it. But that’s the past now. You’ve got to move forward now. You both should communicate with each other. What if you…What if you told him what you’ve been telling me? Do you think that’s possible?”

Zayn sighed. Giving up his will to fight, he nodded. “It’s possible.”

Louis looked to Zayn and smiled. Both of their bodies were still flat on the mattress, no pillows underneath their heads, just lying under the blanket.

“How did you get over feeling like this?” Zayn finally asked. “You and Harry seem to have this whole thing down great, so…I guess there’s hope…”

“Of course there’s hope,” Louis said softly. “When two people really love each other…” he trailed off. “Harry and I—we…Well, like we were just talking about, Harry and I _communicated_. A lot. You notice how I always give Harry a hard time for double- and triple-checking if everything’s all right with me? For sometimes being too gentle even when I’m asking for it rough? It’s because of this. He and I did a ton of research together about this kind of stuff and talked endlessly—I mean _endlessly_ —about it all.”

“Yeah.”

“Now that you two have made the decision to do these sorts of things, it’s really important to talk through everything,” Louis advised, brushing Zayn’s hair out of his face. “Every step of the way. The good stuff and the bad stuff. As early as you possibly can.”

“Yeah,” Zayn said again. He still couldn’t bring himself to do anything but frown.

“Share your thoughts with him, Z. He’ll be receptive to you. It’s not too late to resolve this. I know you’re tired of me saying it’ll be okay, but it will. I have complete faith that it will be.”

Whereas earlier he was hysterically crying, Zayn was now stoic. His body ached down to the bone. “I want him. I just want him so bad, Lou. I’m tired of feeling like this.”

“I know,” Louis soothed. “Why don’t we get up and I can drive you back to him? Are you ready for that?”

Zayn stretched. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

Both of them remained still, however. “Have I helped you at all?” Louis asked in a small voice.

Zayn nodded sincerely. “I feel better, I really do, but I also feel like once I step outside this room, it’s all going to be the same—like, I’m still going to feel off—because I just don’t know what to do to now. Like, it’s going to be so hard to talk about this. It’s hurting my head. I just—all I want is him. I just want him with me so bad.”

“Okay, c’mon, then.”

Just as Louis was about to gingerly slide off the side of the bed, the doorknob audibly turned. Both Zayn and Louis turned their heads as the door cautiously swept forward and light flooded the room. There at the threshold stood a figure with wide, worried eyes and plump, downturned lips, pausing momentarily to adjust to the darkness.

Zayn could make out that silhouette anywhere. He immediately uttered Liam’s name.

Before Louis could even blink, Zayn had already sat up in bed with his hands out before him, reflexively reaching out for his boyfriend, his true comfort.

“Oh, _Zayn_ ,” Liam said softly. His strides were long as he made his way to the bed, and he sat on the edge where Zayn had already scooted his body forward. Liam immediately noticed Zayn’s puffy face and wanted to cry himself, but instead, he wrapped his large arms around Zayn and just held him for long, desperate minutes.

Liam kept saying, “ _Zayn, Zayn_ ,” again and again, and Zayn, smushed closely against Liam’s side, kept echoing, “ _Liam, Liam_.” Despite all the various feelings Zayn’s mind had projected towards Liam in the past few days, Zayn let himself relax in Liam’s arms with the relief that he was finally secure.

 

* * *

 

Louis immediately felt the atmosphere in the room switch from distressed and forlorn to electrically desperate and maybe even hopeful, so he tip-toed out of the emotional room and tiredly padded down the hall again. His body felt heavy with each step he took. When he finally reached the kitchen, Louis found Harry still sat at the table there, staring down at his own entwined hands. At Louis’ small disturbance breaking the silence in the air, Harry’s face lifted.

Louis’ feet stopped moving so he could just stare at Harry for a few moments—Harry’s gorgeous hair, Harry’s open and expressive face, Harry’s slumped shoulders and Harry’s big, bright eyes. He always just looked so beautiful, whether he was serious or happy or singing or sleeping. And yeah, maybe Louis was overly emotional at just witnessing Liam and Zayn’s reunion, at just recounting one of the saddest experiences of his life, but he simply stood there taking in his boyfriend while simultaneously contemplating his dumb luck, not saying a word.

Harry looked back interestedly, and suddenly his face changed. “You told him.”

It was a statement, not a question, and of course Harry would be able to gather that just by looking at Louis’ face for mere seconds.

And, no, Louis hadn’t actually told Zayn much at all, about his experience and how truly traumatic it had been for him (actually, for his mum and Harry, as well), yet it still stirred up some stagnant feeling inside that Louis couldn’t ever truly get rid of. Louis just shrugged, but something in his eyes confirmed the information Harry was seeking.

“Oh, Lou,” Harry whispered.

Louis sat in the chair next to Harry and rested his cheek on the table. When Harry reached out and stroked Louis’ knee, Louis just murmured, “’S okay, Haz.”

Harry smiled a little hollowly, and the two looked at each other for a long minute. “Wanna talk about it?”

Louis shook his head. Now that he wasn’t fully focused on Zayn’s well-being anymore, a foreboding ache in his throat and a pounding in his head became pronounced.  “Done enough talking tonight, I think,” he muttered.

Harry nodded.

Not a lot of people saw this side of Louis—this wary, stripped down version of him. Or, rather, Louis didn’t _show_ a lot of people this side of him. Louis obviously preferred cheering other people up and laughing to being sad and serious, but when it came time for it, Louis surprisingly was the best to turn to.

The thing was, no one really saw how much it drained Louis. Now here he sat, tired-looking and emotionally vulnerable, but Harry was pretty well-equipped to deal with it. He offered Louis ice cream, and when Louis’ eyes brightened a bit, he and Louis took their dishes upstairs to eat in bed.

 

* * *

 

“I’m fine,” Zayn said, shaking a little in Liam’s arms for no reason. Even as he spoke the words, his eyes burned without his permission, and he frowned because he’d literally _just_ stopped crying. All he seemed to do anymore was _cry_. These days, a fucking pen could fall off a desk and he’d cry. He didn’t even know it was possible to produce such a terribly large amount of tears, and he had to apologize for it. “I’m sorry—I’m sorry, I’m fine.”

“No, no, you’re not, baby,” Liam gravely responded. He cradled a hand on the back of Zayn’s head and applied the gentlest amount of pressure there, pressing Zayn’s face further into the area where his neck met his shoulder. He felt the dank wetness from Zayn’s tears and snot against his shirt, and he didn’t care. “But you will be. I’m here now. I’m gonna take care of you. Like you deserve.”

Zayn didn’t know where this was coming from, but he wanted it, he wanted it so badly. Still, he shook his head. “I don’t deserve any—“

Liam cut off Zayn’s protest. “You deserve _everything_.”

Zayn kept pouring out quiet tears while his body shook. Of course, he felt stupid for it, but Liam just hugged and rocked Zayn like it wasn’t even a bother to him until eventually, Zayn’s shoulders stopped moving so furiously.

“Sorry I’ve been a dick to you,” Zayn said thickly as he slowly lifted his head to look at Liam. He noticed a wet patch against the entire upper part of Liam’s shirt. “I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry for everything. You won’t believe me, but I’m _sorry_. I just—”

Liam lifted his index finger and pressed it feather-soft to Zayn’s lips. “Sweetheart, shh,” he said as gently as he could. “I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you like I should have. I’m sorry I haven’t given you what you’ve needed. But I’ve got you now. I’m here.” Liam found Zayn’s hands and held them securely in his own. “I’ve got you. I’m gonna take care of you. I can promise you this.”

Zayn looked down to his and Liam’s intertwined fingers. He had no clue why Liam was here or why he was saying all these perfect things, but everything was music to his ears. He confessed almost inaudibly, “I’ve missed you so much, Liam.”

Liam’s eyes burned. “I’m here,” he said with a squeeze of his hands and a crack in his voice. “I should have done so many things that I didn’t, but know this— _know_ this, baby—it was all because I thought I was giving you what you wanted. Thinking you were sick, leaving you alone… I should’ve—I should’ve known better, but just…please believe me when I say it’ll never happen again, okay? I’ll never just assume anything without speaking with you about it first. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Zayn shook his head. There was so much confusion. “How—where is all this coming from?”

Liam looked down for a moment. “I’ve been…I’ve been quite confused about… _everything_ lately, and when you left I couldn’t just watch you go without doing something this time. So.” He met Zayn’s eyes again. “Here I am.”

“Sorry,” Zayn whispered again. He simultaneously felt bad and happy that Liam went out of his way just to find him.

Liam shrugged. “I’m glad I came. Talked to Harry. He, er, he knocked some sense into me, helped me realize some things. I’ve been an idiot.” He squeezed Zayn’s hands tighter and tried to smile.

“Yeah,” Zayn replied, gesturing to the bed, “Louis helped me…realize things, too.”

Liam nodded. “Good. That’s good. I just hope you’ll—Just, please forgive me, Zayn. Please.”

Zayn’s mouth turned downwards at the same time he nodded his head, and he broke contact with one of Liam’s hands to reach up with his knuckle and wipe away residual tears. _He would stop crying. He would stop crying._

“Ugh, you have better things to do than listen to me cry. It's all I ever seem to do."

“There’s nothing better than just being with you, sweetie,” Liam whispered.

Sappy stuff like that always made Zayn feel corny yet special at the same time, and he mumbled, “You don’t have to keep calling me those things, you know.”

“What things?”

“Like… _sweetheart_ and stuff.”

Liam was taken aback, and he removed his hand from Zayn’s thigh. His face was serious, maybe a little saddened. “Do you not want me to anymore?”

Zayn evasively shrugged. “Just—you never really... It’s really okay. You don’t have to baby me.”

Zayn could be so stubborn. Liam knew from a drunken confession long ago that Zayn secretly loved pet-names; otherwise, Liam wouldn’t be saying them. “I’m not babying you. I’m showing you that I care about you.”

Zayn was silent.

“And even if I were babying you,” Liam went on, “I have every right to. You’re the most important thing in my life, and you’re upset.”

Zayn’s immediate instinct was to deny he was upset, but he knew that from now on, he needed to be frank. “I—yeah,” he let out, sighing. “It’s been a rough few days.”

Zayn dropped his head again before hesitantly brushing his hand against Liam’s. Of course, Liam reached out and found Zayn’s hand again before continuing, “I—God, I just wish I weren’t the cause for your sadness, but—but—we’re going to clear things up, okay? Things are going to be okay. We can talk through it all. I can—I can make it better again. Whenever you’re ready.”

Zayn took a deep breath. He nodded. He still felt so... _weird_. “I…want to tell you everything, but you’ll probably think I’m stupid.”

“ _No_. I’m here to support you,” Liam responded, deep with feeling. “I’ll never— _never_ , Zayn—think you’re stupid. I care about you and will listen to you. Do you understand?”

“Yeah,” Zayn responded half-heartedly.

“Hey,” Liam said lightly. With his index finger, he lifted Zayn’s chin. “I am here to support you. Whatever it is you need.”

“I just— _you_ ,” Zayn admitted brokenly. Despite his confused and foggy mind, he knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt, Liam’s presence was what he needed. “Just you.”

Liam framed Zayn’s face with his hands and tentatively leaned forward to kiss Zayn’s forehead. “God, I—I just—I’m here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

Zayn closed his heavy eyelids and leaned his head to the side, more into Liam’s touch. Eventually, Liam dropped his fingers from Zayn’s face and moved them to tentatively rest on his waist instead. Both boys looked at each other for long seconds, not realizing that, like magnets, their faces were both beginning to lean forward as each second ticked by.

Liam glanced momentarily at Zayn’s lips before focusing back on his eyes. For some compelling reason, Liam felt like asking for permission before he kissed Zayn. He didn’t have to ask with words, however, because just by looking at each other, both of them said so much.

Deep and sweet, Liam asked even as his lips were virtually touching Zayn’s, “Yeah?”

Zayn licked his lips and barely nodded. His breath was hot with his reply. “Yeah.”

Then they kissed.

Zayn’s mouth was lax and pliant while Liam’s did all the actual moving. Liam gently slid his lips against Zayn’s and tasted the bittersweet tang of tears along with something sweeter there, like salt and sugar sprinkled together atop every little ridge and crack on Zayn’s dry lips. Eventually, Liam licked his way inside Zayn’s mouth, just a little, chasing the familiar smoky flavor he’d grown to love, and Zayn’s hands hesitantly moved to Liam’s hips as he welcomed their joining of tongues.

There was nothing even remotely sensual about any of it; everything was purely for comfort. The actual words would come later, Liam knew, later when they had the real conversation that they needed to have, but now, there needed to be nothing but security and warmth for Zayn. That had to come first. There needed to be arms holding and bodies touching and scents meshing, words whispered and declarations given.

And there were many of those, mostly just _“I love you so much,”_ until both of them began just hugging and squeezing each other a ridiculous amount, over and over again in a series of desperate acts that retied their hearts together, and when Zayn began breathing a bit too rapidly, began clutching a bit too tightly onto Liam’s jumper, Liam separated himself and whispered, “Let’s go home.”

 

* * *

 

The sofa had always been the biggest place of comfort for Zayn, so that’s where he was sat while Liam reheated his dinner. That’s where he actually ate his dinner, as well, finally able to find some flavor from the dish he hadn’t been able to gather in dozens of meals before, and that’s where he and Liam snuggled up together.

It was great to be so close to Liam again, to smell him and feel him once more, but still, Zayn felt strange, like he didn’t know what he was supposed to do or say now that he and Liam had had that tearful reunion back at Louis’ and Harry’s. He decided to rest his head in Liam’s lap and just wait for Liam to steer the conversation where it needed to go, which Zayn was depending on.

When Zayn realized the silence had been going on for a bit too long, he thickly blinked a few times and lifted his head off of Liam’s lap. The storm outside had quietened so the room was completely still, and Zayn looked at Liam in confusion.

“You fell asleep,” Liam spoke as Zayn looked around the room. “It’s been a few hours.”

“Hours?” Zayn asked. His voice was thick with sleep, so he knew Liam wasn’t joking. Just then, as he stretched, the blanket that was normally thrown over the back of the sofa fell off his shoulders. Liam must’ve covered him with it.

“You needed some sleep,” Liam explained, though he didn’t need an excuse to watch Zayn sleep, not really. Sleeping Zayn was beautiful. Well, Zayn was beautiful _all_ of the time, but there was something different about him when he was sleeping. Something vulnerable. With his eyes closed, his long eyelashes fanned over his cheekbones like a painting or something, and his mouth always parted just _so_ , just enough to breathe a little, and even the way he _breathed_ was mesmerizing. Liam probably could’ve sat there watching him all night.

“Yeah.” Zayn couldn’t deny that. He rubbed his sore eyes.

Liam reached out and lightly touched Zayn’s leg. “How’re you feeling?”

Zayn thought about it for a minute. His brain already felt lighter, his thoughts inside not as heavy anymore. Just from a little bit of sleep. (And probably Liam’s mere presence, as well.)

Zayn found himself nodding agreeably. “Better.”

Genially, Liam smiled. “Brilliant. I’m glad.”

The silence dragged on after that, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Zayn scrubbed his face, scratched his facial hair, wiped sleep out of his eyes, eventually stood up for a cigarette. Carrying a bottle of water, Liam followed Zayn outside and smoked alongside him, as well.

Again, they were silent as they stood. Liam didn’t regularly smoke, but tonight he just needed to. He was anxious on the inside but was forcing himself to be the strong and steady force that Zayn needed on the outside. The tips of his and Zayn’s cigarettes regularly lighting up with each drag they took was their own form of communication until Zayn eventually sighed, staring up at the dark sky.

He coughed a few times. “My sleeping schedule is so fucked.”

Liam flicked his cigarette out into the garden and stepped a little closer to Zayn. He offered him the bottle of water, and willingly, Zayn accepted it. Liam stared at Zayn’s throat as he gulped the liquid down, at how it bobbed with every swallow, and it made him think back to that night. That night that had perpetuated all this. Zayn had been on the floor, head constantly thrown back in pleasure, face twisted up from the intensity of everything happening. Oh, how delicate his throat had looked then, and how delicate it remained still.

“You know,” Liam began quietly, “I’d still like to talk about everything.”

A long trail of smoke came out of Zayn’s mouth, and he, too, disposed of his finished cigarette. He turned his body to Liam and nodded before Liam continued, “Now, we don’t have to talk right at this moment, but. Whenever you’re ready.”

 _Endless communication_ , Louis had said. Some very tiny part of Zayn wanted to bury this, wanted to pretend nothing had even happened, but he knew that was impossible. Plus, if he and Liam were to continue what they were doing—and Zayn really, _really_ wanted to continue what they were doing—they needed to talk to one another.

“I’m ready,” Zayn replied. He tried to say it with confidence, but, as he was staring down at the bottle in his hands, he still appeared anxious.

Liam stepped even closer and nudged his shoulder. “It’s just me.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s just—it’s awkward, isn’t it?”

“Doesn’t have to be. I just want to hear from you. Really. I want to know everything going on in that little head of yours. You don’t have to bottle things up anymore.”

Zayn nodded. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat and looked at Zayn expectantly.

“Let’s go back inside, then. I can tell you’re cold.”

On the sofa again, Liam covered himself and Zayn with the warm blanket. Zayn wanted to stretch out, but Liam wanted to be upright in order to see Zayn’s face. The end result was Zayn resting the back of his head on the arm of the sofa with his legs over Liam’s lap, toes peeking out from under the blanket at the other end.

Liam had learned most of Zayn’s faces by now, even the more elusive ones, but sometimes he still struggled with them. Zayn’s current expression—an even mouth and large, dark eyes—looked like he was pondering life itself.

“Talk to me,” Liam asked.

Okay. Zayn could do this. He was more clear-headed, more level-minded. It was Liam, after all. His greatest love.

So, after a heavy sigh and a few moments during which Zayn seemed to sink further into the couch, Zayn talked. He talked and talked. He told Liam everything that he had told Louis and then more—about his embarrassment and depression and muddled feelings—and the great thing was that, no matter how much time it took for him to explain everything, Liam really listened. He really _heard_ Zayn when he admitted that he’d felt neglected and unsure after everything had happened. And, not surprisingly, he responded in the same way Louis had—with constant reassurance.

“Babe, I loved it all,” Liam guaranteed. “All of it.”

“I sort of wish you’d said that earlier,” Zayn was saying, rubbing an eye with his index finger. Zayn’s voice was small. He was way past crying now, but some uncertainties remained. “I had no clue if you liked anything at all. If you’d been happy with me. I mean, you just sort of…fell asleep afterwards.”

“That won’t ever happen again,” Liam promised. Somehow Liam had ended up lying horizontally beside Zayn, crushed up by the cushions so Zayn wouldn’t fall off. “I didn’t tell you that I liked it, and I should have. I thought you already knew that…just figured that you would know. But I know now that I shouldn’t’ve just assumed. I should’ve been telling you that all along how great you were. And, baby, you were. I’ve never seen you quite like that before. You were absolutely stunning. You…made me so happy,” he finished.

Smiling at the praise, Zayn turned onto his side so he was facing Liam. He slotted a leg in between both of Liam’s at the same time Liam shifted to get more comfortable. Ultimately, Liam lay on his back with Zayn draped halfway on top of him.

Liam began running his hands along Zayn’s shoulder and back. He made sure Zayn was looking at him when he continued, “Harry helped me figure out exactly what had happened. You know. Afterwards. He said there were _terms_ for it. That it’s even happened to him and Louis before, as well. …Did Louis tell you that stuff, as well?”

Zayn nodded. When Liam inquired about that, more about Zayn’s experience with subspace and, more importantly, the drop he was slowing coming out of, Zayn tried his hardest to explain it to him. He felt quite emotional again at having to once more recount all of the negative things from the past few days, but it was blessedly cathartic.

Liam’s eyes were hurt when Zayn was finished. “I never want to be the reason for that ever again. I only ever want to take care of you, make sure you’re always happy—”

“I—look, Liam,” Zayn interrupted. He tried to sit up a bit, raise his head so he could look Liam in the eye. “It’s not all on you, all right? You’re blaming yourself for _everything_ , and it’s not fair. I’m…I’m not faultless in this, either. This is a two-way street,” he repeated Louis’ words from earlier. “I should’ve known more about what I was getting into, as well, I guess, and then maybe I would’ve known how to recognize what I was going through—maybe could’ve helped myself out earlier. But this is helping,” he was quick to say. “Being together and talking.”

“We both should’ve…prepared more, yes,” Liam agreed, “but I still feel that a larger part of the responsibility is on me. That’s what this is all about, you know, you not having to really be in charge of that stuff. It’s supposed to be _me_ helping _you_.”

Liam was talking loudly now, being wordy like he always was whenever he discussed something he was passionate about. Ardent yet kind. Single-mindedly focused on having a positive outcome. Zayn was mesmerized by his face and didn’t look away.

“So, in that light, I _do_ take the blame. And I want you to realize that. I want you to know that I _know_ I’ve messed up but that I will do everything in my power to prevent it from ever happening again. Ever. From now on, we’ll talk about everything. I don’t ever want you to feel how you’ve been feeling ever again.”

Zayn nodded. He shifted a bit. “I’ve—You know that I’ve never opened myself up like that to anyone else before,” he started. He scratched the scruff on his face.

“I know, and—”

“Li, I wasn’t finished,” Zayn said lightly. He spoke over Liam’s _“Oh, sorry, go on,”_ and continued, “I just wanted to say, I’ve never _been_ like this with someone before, and I just—don’t want to fuck up what we have by scaring you off with the weird shit that turns me on. Like, _liking_ what I like, liking you taking control and stuff.”

Liam stilled his hands. One of them moved to Zayn’s face to trace his cheekbone with his thumb.

“Zayn, no…never. That won’t ever happen. I’m not going anywhere. I like it all, too! When we went through that book—Harry’s given it to us to keep for good, actually—I meant it when I told you I liked all that stuff. And don’t use that word, _weird_. I don’t want you to, like, demean your desires. Or ignore them because you’re worried about how I might take it or something. I want you to talk about everything. _Everything_. Seriously. Like we’re doing now.”

Zayn nodded. “Okay. Yeah, talking is good. I mean, I know that. And I was honest with all of that stuff in the book, too. It’s just, this feeling has been so _weird_ , and I’m just—I’m just making sure, I guess,” he shrugged.

It was almost cute how… _shy_ …Zayn was being, but Liam still felt terrible because he knew it was all due to him not assuring Zayn from the start just how much he loved everything, how much he wanted it, too. Yeah, Zayn liked him taking control, and yeah, of _course_ Liam liked that, too, but he hadn’t exactly realized how ill-equipped he’d been before his chat with Harry. There really was more to the whole dynamic than he’d realized.

“This isn’t an excuse, baby, but…but I’m still learning, okay? I’m learning that there are real repercussions to all this, serious repercussions. And so I promise that now I’ll do what I know to do—look things up and everything, and - and - and make sure that everything is safe—“

“You’ll, like, _include_ me, right? That’s the most important thing, doing it together, that’s why we’re having this convers—”

“Of course!” Liam stated. “Of course. That’s what I meant—we can look things up together. And, hey, let’s agree on some stuff now. Before we do anything new, let’s talk about it. And… _after_ we do stuff—even if we’ve done it before—let’s talk about it. And no matter what, if either of us ever feels doubtful, then we’ll be honest about whatever concerns we have about…whatever that thing may be. Even if we think we’ll like it but end up not liking it. Even if we’re in the _middle_ of doing it, that’s no reason not to be honest. You can just say you’re not feeling it. It won’t hurt my feelings.”

Zayn nodded. “Okay. Same with you.”

“Okay?” Liam asked with a smile. “We’ll talk with each other all the time? We’ve got ourselves a deal?”

Zayn smiled genuinely, mainly just in response at seeing Liam so happy now that everything was out in the open. “Yeah, deal.”

Zayn was already sat upright a bit, so Liam pushed himself up, as well, clapping his hands. “So, good. The moral of all of this is that we’ve got to _conversate_ more. Not hard to do, yeah?”

Zayn looked to the side and smirked. “Converse, you mean.”

“Hm?”

“It’s converse,” Zayn clarified. “Conversate isn’t a word.”

Liam slightly smiled and shook his head. “Thank you for informing me.”

“Anytime.”

Zayn and Liam met eyes, and they both smiled larger. The sides of their mouths raised high enough to cause crinkles at the corners of both of their eyes. Was this flirting?

Liam put his hand on the back of Zayn’s neck and beckoned, “C’mere.”

With a dumb and happy smile on his face, Zayn craned his neck to reach Liam’s lips for a soft and chaste kiss. They both sort of missed their mark, Liam kissing more of Zayn’s beard than his lips, but afterwards they both smiled anyway.

“You’re so loved, Zayn,” Liam whispered. “You don’t even know how loved you are.”

“You’ve done a pretty good job showing me,” Zayn replied. He expected Liam to smile, but Liam appeared serious.

Liam’s grin eventually faded, and he looked at Zayn almost in longing. “Ready for bed yet?” he finally asked.

Zayn averted his eyes and scratched the hair underneath his chin. He didn’t mind facial hair, but it was awfully itchy these days. “Er, I think…I should probably shower. I’m smelly.”

“I don’t smell anything,” shrugged Liam.

“Pretty sure I reek,” Zayn maintained.

Liam was amused as he continued to stare at Zayn’s stationary body. He poked Zayn’s side. “Well, you should probably get up if you want to shower. Think you can make it?”

“Can’t you just carry me?” Zayn sighed wistfully.

“I could try,” Liam answered seriously.

“I was joking.”

“I wasn’t.”

Zayn untangled himself from Liam’s body, freeing him so he could stand, as well. For a second, it looked like Liam really was going to carry Zayn, or at least try to, but Zayn wouldn’t allow it. He just pressed his body in close to Liam, practically resting all of his body weight on Liam’s side while Liam held on tightly, and the two walked up the stairs like that.

“I’m so happy to be here again,” Zayn found himself saying. He was speaking in both physical and psychological terms— _here_ , in Liam’s house, but also _here_ , in this happy, comfortable place with him.

“Me, too,” Liam agreed. “Me, too.”

Once in the bedroom, Zayn began walking in the direction of the bathroom, but Liam took ahold of his elbow to stop him _._ Liam swallowed. “Shall we take a bath instead? Together?”

Zayn stared at Liam, dark eyes framed with dark lashes, and quickly nodded. He loved baths, and truthfully, he didn’t want to leave the warmth of Liam’s side now that he’d just gotten it back. “I’d like that.”

So Liam got to work on running the bath while Zayn quietly watched. Liam poured in scented gel to make bubbles and even found a few candles to light. He situated them around the room before switching the overhead lights off and removing his clothes. With his naked backside to Zayn, he turned his head around. Zayn’s face shone brightly in the flickering candlelight, and Liam asked, “You coming?”

Zayn hesitated for the slightest moment before nodding and quickly disrobing. Liam wasn’t looking anyway, and it wasn’t like he had anything to be shy about, but Zayn felt almost virginal for a second.

The water sloshed a bit as the two stepped in the tub together. Zayn slipped a little, but Liam held firmly onto his arm to keep him upright. He swore at the same time Liam asked if he was okay. Zayn nodded before blaming the dark on his incoordination.

“Oh,” Liam said, standing shin-deep in the water. “I’ll just switch the lights back on—“

“No!” Zayn protested immediately. “No. Keep the candles.”

Liam’s face softened. He nodded.

Their bathtub was probably too small for this, as both of them had to twist their bodies in odd fashions just in order to fit, but neither complained. Liam sat at the back of the tub with his legs bent up and his knees visible above the water, and Zayn curled up at the other end, contorted in a strange ball between Liam’s spread legs.

Zayn briefly wondered why Liam hadn’t invested in a larger bathtub, but then he remembered that Liam hardly ever took baths. A little thrill ran through him when he realized that Liam was only joining now for Zayn’s benefit. That he owned _bubble bath_ for Zayn’s benefit, probably. Zayn was exhausted, yes, but he couldn’t deny that little electric charge underneath his skin that only Liam could give him. The candles…the bubbles…the hot water…Everything was maddeningly romantic, and Zayn loved it all.

“Lie back,” Liam suggested, shaking Zayn out of his thoughts.

Zayn couldn’t really move much, so he remained sort of on his side. Curled up in what could only be described as the fetal position, Zayn laid his head down to rest on Liam’s wet chest. Liam’s body was solid yet still giving underneath Zayn, and the feeling of being skin-to-skin with him coupled with the heat of the surrounding water quickly relaxed any leftover stress Zayn was holding onto. He felt like he was where he belonged.

He was vaguely conscious of Liam’s genitals below his ribs and half-heartedly hoped that he wasn’t squishing anything. Liam appeared to be fine, though, because he automatically moved a hand to Zayn’s neck and began massaging there.

“Mmm,” Zayn let out, then, as an afterthought, whispered, “your body feels good.”

Liam let out a small puff of air in a tiny laugh. Since he normally didn’t spread his legs in this way, the position initially made him think about getting head, especially with Zayn _right there_ , but he immediately stopped that train of thought. “So does yours.”

After a few moments of comfort so deep Zayn almost fell asleep, Liam spoke. “You want me to step out so you can have a proper bath? I’d still stay in the room. It’s just…you can’t be comfortable like this.”

“No,” Zayn said at once, the hands he had twisted in front of his body finding Liam’s thigh and squeezing. “Stay.”

“Okay,” Liam simply said. “Let’s get your smelly self clean, then.”

The water splashed again as Liam sat up quickly and immediately pulled Zayn’s hips further in between his own legs. Gratefully, Zayn leaned back, bent his legs, and rested his feet on either side of the tap.

As Liam’s fingers lightly massaged shampoo in his hair, Zayn wondered how things would be between the two of them now. Like, sexually. Would it be like it was after he and Liam got into other fights? Was this their honeymoon period where they would be a little too nice to one another for a little bit, have incredible make-up sex, and then go back to normal?

Zayn wasn’t sure if he wanted to do anything sexual tonight. He didn’t think he was even ready for anything just yet.

After he and Liam had finished in the bath, they dried off, got dressed, and went to bed. Zayn was silent while he and Liam spooned, still shifting a bit like he always did in the moments before finally becoming still and falling unconscious, except maybe he was being a bit more jittery than usual. It was well past midnight now, and he was tired. He’d talked more in one day than he had all week. Still, he couldn’t turn his brain off.

Besides a kiss on the neck, Liam didn’t try to initiate anything. He just whispered, “Night,” and “I love you,” and enveloped Zayn’s entire body with his own—his own version of wordlessly calming Zayn down. And it worked.

Zayn relaxed. “You’re a really good person, Liam,” he whispered.

Liam was taken aback. “I—Thanks. So are you. Now get some sleep.”

Contented now that he was secure in bed next to Liam rather than alone, Zayn finally let the weight of his eyelids take over, and he actually got an entire night’s sleep for the first time in days.

 

* * *

 

The days passed quite busily, both because of work obligations and because Liam was serious about what he’d promised Zayn about communicating more. It seemed that that was all Liam wanted to do, though— _talk_.

In the evenings after returning from the studio, they still discussed things, researching terms together side-by-side but never _engaging_ in anything. From personal limits to what kind of aftercare Zayn liked best, they really did talk endlessly about everything, and when Zayn told this to Louis, Louis was proud.

Harry was happy, as well, when he and Liam finally got to speak together privately. Before that, Harry would give Liam long looks from time to time, holding up questionable thumbs-up signs until Liam finally got him alone so he could a.) profusely thank him and b.) let him know that he and Zayn had cleared things up.

“I knew you would,” Harry’d said, smiling from ear-to-ear.

Things continued much like that for the following weeks, except work began to take up even more of their time. The intense traveling bit hadn’t started up yet, but Zayn knew he only had a few more weeks until work would pile up and he would no longer see his bed—or Liam’s bed, rather—for months.

The challenge became getting things back to normal since Liam and Zayn’s relationship had consisted of _research_ instead of _practice_ for too long. Liam was obviously holding back, however, just like Louis had said Harry had done.

So Zayn started to play small pranks on Liam, his way of reassuring Liam that their relationship was still as strong as ever. Mainly, he just messed with Liam’s phone. Changed his background to a ridiculous picture of him from his awkward teenage years. Created a shortcut that switched the word “ _I_ ” to “ _your mum_ ” whenever Liam texted someone.

Whenever they could, mostly at night, Liam and Zayn would huddle together on the sofa or in bed, would kiss forever before passing out. And it was comfortable and cozy, but it still wasn’t back to normal. Because even when their lips were swollen and red and literally hurt, Liam never really _did_ anything. He wrapped Zayn up and made him feel secure, of course, and one night, they actually began to grind against one another, but nothing ever came from it. It was almost maddening, but since the two of them were tired more often than not, it was excusable.

Liam didn’t know what he was waiting for, really. He felt stupid almost for not just _doing_ something, but it was a hard feeling he was experiencing. Having the last memory of sex with your boyfriend end up so catastrophic changed a bloke’s perspective on things.  

Zayn had just let himself inside the house, and Liam couldn’t help himself from indulgently staring at his arse as he walked behind him. Zayn’s black jeans were tight, and his shirt was a bit short, so it allowed for Liam to get a rather good view of Zayn’s pants as he walked (and at the delicious little crease of Zayn’s arse cheeks).

“We got shit to do tomorrow, yeah?” Zayn was asking. He threw the house keys on a nearby table and continued into the kitchen, looking over his shoulder as he walked.

Liam lifted his head, but he knew Zayn had caught him staring at his backside, and he just smiled.

“Tomorrow?” he asked absentmindedly. “Oh, yeah, promo’s starting, remember? Just about all day we’ll be carted around to different places. But if you want me to, I’ll step in to answer most of your questions if you’re not feeling it. Since I know it’ll be tiring.”

“My hero,” Zayn muttered. Their latest album had just come out, and instead of promoting it prior to its release, they were doing much of the promo now. Zayn quieted the sarcastic thoughts running through his head and propped himself up on the kitchen worktop.

“Just call me Interview Man,” Liam replied. “My superhero name. To add to my other alter-egos…First Verse Man, Longest Tweet-Writer Man…”

“You’re such a loser,” Zayn said, grinning. He swung his legs back and forth and made loud banging noises against the cupboards.

“I resent that,” Liam said. He walked in between Zayn’s legs and held them still.

It was like Liam was waiting on Zayn to say something next, but Zayn just looked at Liam expectantly before sticking out his tongue. “Do something about it, then.”

Liam narrowed his eyes before leaning inwards and doing the most natural thing there was to do: kissing Zayn. He squeezed a tad bit harder at Zayn’s legs, and once Zayn was receptive to the kiss, Liam tilted his head further to the side.

On instinct, Zayn slotted his mouth, too, allowing for the most perfect slide of their lips together. For long minutes they stayed in that spot, lips sucking and smacking and lightly nibbling, and there was something innocently languid about it all. It reminded Zayn of all those long nights they spent exploring each other’s mouths for _hours_ back when things were new and they were still keeping their relationship a secret, but Zayn could tell that Liam was holding back. His hands were only lazily touching Zayn.

Liam broke away with a little sigh and stepped backwards.

Zayn frowned. “That all you got?”

Liam smiled. “No, it is not,” he answered slowly. Quietly.

Zayn threw himself off the kitchen counter and looked up at Liam. “Well, I’m right here, Superman, so what’re you waiting for?”

So now they were snogging again, rapid, clutching one another a bit, suddenly ascending the stairs out of nowhere with their mouths attached, both growing a bit breathless from the awkward coordination of it all but refusing to break contact. Zayn was hopeful about where this would go this time—finally, it’d been _weeks_ —and he clasped Liam’s arms whilst difficultly trying to keep his footing.

At the top of the stairs, Zayn gratefully fell back against Liam’s bedroom door. There was a small pause in which the pair broke away from each other just to look at one another’s faces—Zayn’s expectant and Liam’s soft—but soon Liam’s hot breath was crowding Zayn again as he crooked his neck downwards to resume their kiss.

There was a certain precision about the way Liam kissed. And though that sounded dishearteningly unromantic, Zayn loved it. He loved it because Liam knew _precisely_ how to put Zayn at ease when he was wound up too tight, knew _precisely_ how to use his mouth to simultaneously make Zayn feel safe and on edge, knew _precisely_ the effort needed to shut off Zayn’s mind and let him just fall into the bliss.

Zayn loved it also because it was one of his favorite forms of foreplay, the innocuous sliding of tongues together actually a metaphor for other body parts uniting and rubbing against each other later.

Zayn squeezed harder at Liam’s biceps and let out a soft noise. From their bodies lightly squirming against one another, Zayn could tell that Liam was getting hard, and he was certain that Liam felt his own erection, as well. His efforts at pushing his hips forward to gather friction from Liam’s jeans, however, were met by two strong hands pressing his hips back to the door. And—and, _mmm_ —that would’ve been lovely, except Liam wasn’t doing it to tease, he was doing it to remove that particular contact.

“Liam,” Zayn barely spoke after breaking the kiss.

With his mouth ajar from desire, Liam breathed hard into Zayn’s face, and Zayn’s gaze dropped to Liam’s open mouth before rising to meet his inquisitive eyes. “Come on, Liam…”

Liam’s eyebrows just rose a bit, and Zayn almost wanted to shake him in frustration. Liam’s eyes were an open book to his feelings, shining yet hooded as he continued to look at Zayn, and Zayn could tell he wasn’t being playful; he was genuinely curious about what Zayn really wanted. Or, like Louis had informed, he was just waiting for Zayn to actually voice something himself.

So Zayn moved his hands down and pulled at the hem of Liam’s sweater. He breathed in and out a few times. “You said you wanted me to…tell you my needs, yeah?”

“Of course,” Liam answered genuinely. His hands were still on Zayn’s hips, and his thumbs reached under Zayn’s shirt to brush against the sensitive skin below his belly button.

“Well, I…I need you,” Zayn admitted as he looked downwards, feeling a blush creep up his neck at sounding like a cheap romance novel. “Like—all of you.”

Liam smiled like that was exactly what he’d wanted to hear. Something in his eyes smothered. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Zayn uttered, swearing he could feel Liam’s entire body inching more and more into his space now. _Yes_.

“You’re absolutely sure?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Zayn answered.

Liam stilled for a second before reaching beyond Zayn to open the door. “I’d be an awful person to deny you that, then, wouldn't I?” he whispered before pressing his lips to Zayn’s once more and walking him backwards into the bedroom.

With a stupid giddiness, Zayn made a noise and wrapped his hands around Liam’s neck. Among the neatly organized furniture in the bedroom, Liam strode forward as Zayn aimlessly walked backwards, and they paused somewhere in the middle of the room, holding each other tightly and snogging with much more intent than before.

 _This_ was the Liam that Zayn loved the most, the more-excited-than-anybody-in-the-room Liam whose eyes twinkled and face shone, whose body literally bounced with the pent-up energy of doing something he really wanted to do. His body language alone should’ve told Zayn everything he needed to know, but self-doubt lingered. He hated to break the kiss and ask, but—“You want this, too, don’t you?”

“Oh, like mad,” Liam spoke into Zayn’s mouth. “Just been giving us a little bit of time.”

“Fuck, Liam, we’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”

In response to that, Liam sucked Zayn’s bottom lip into his mouth, somehow smiling despite his teeth lightly nibbling there.

Excitedly, Zayn’s hand dropped to Liam’s trousers and palmed the hard patch in front. Firm but still soft enough to be squeezed through the fabric, Liam’s cock literally twitched in Zayn’s hand, and at the feeling of Liam’s dick _growing_ under his fingers, Zayn felt an insistent throbbing through his own. Like it would do something to soothe his own desire, he enfolded his hand firmer around Liam and purposefully tugged upwards.

Removing Zayn’s lip from between his teeth, Liam’s head fell back, his eyes to the ceiling. He bit back a groan and indulged in the feeling for only a moment before harshly breathing in through his nose and moving Zayn’s hand to the side. He put his free hand on the small of Zayn’s back and pulled Zayn’s body in closer while, with his other, guided Zayn’s hand to rest behind his own neck again.

Zayn clutched there and pulled Liam’s mouth down, moaning at how firmly Liam was clutching his skin, moaning when Liam finally descended his mouth once more.

Falling into the kiss when Liam opened his mouth to deepen it even further, Zayn didn’t realize he was slowly walking backwards until the backs of his knees hit the bed. Automatically, he sat down, trying to pull Liam with him, but Liam remained upright as Zayn leaned back to rest on his elbows. Judging by his tense face, Liam seemed to be struggling with self-control already.

 _Good_ , thought Zayn. He spread his legs widely.

Liam inched forward and nestled himself in between Zayn’s legs, close but still not close enough to touch where Zayn wanted it most. Zayn’s shirt had ridden up his torso a bit, and Liam couldn’t stop his hands from reaching out and smoothing over Zayn’s exposed skin. He smiled when Zayn wiggled a bit; the fact that his boyfriend was slightly ticklish was indescribably adorable.

Zayn bit his lip. “Stop.”

Liam’s fingers kept brushing along Zayn’s skin. “Mm? Stop what?”

“ _Babe_ , stop,” Zayn asked again, smiling.

Liam’s grin widened, and he slowly pushed Zayn’s shirt all the way up to his armpits, gingerly leaning forward to remove it. As Liam next unbuttoned and unzipped Zayn’s jeans, his movements were still careful, and he stood motionless once Zayn’s boxer-briefs were all that was left. Zayn was propped up on his elbows again, his little muscles tense in anticipation, yearning written all over his face.

Almost fragilely, like Zayn was breakable, Liam took hold of Zayn’s pants and held his breath as he pulled the fabric down and off Zayn’s skinny legs. His gaze flickered all over Zayn’s naked body, and Liam—tall and hard-bodied and masculine Liam—looked soft as he took in the complete sight. _God_ …Zayn was so _pretty_.

Finally, Liam’s gaze lowered to Zayn’s most intimate parts, shamelessly being displayed just for him, and his eyes lingered there for long moments. He just wanted to give Zayn pleasure in so many ways.

Zayn’s hands had been slowly trailing down his own stomach, resting on the tops of his legs before he’d trail them back up again. The motion distracted Liam from the quiet fantasies he was having, and he shook his head slightly. “You’re a work of art, you know that?”

Zayn felt his chest constrict, almost like his heart had grown a few sizes, and he smiled, maybe spreading his legs just a tad bit wider for Liam. He extended a hand and shook Liam’s jumper, and Liam, getting the hint, removed the article with just one hand. He grasped his sweater from the back to lift over his head while simultaneously reaching down with his other hand to open his trousers. Wiggling out of them and letting them fall to the floor, he lifted his legs to kick them to the side before looking back to Zayn.

Liam’s erection was quite obvious, tenting out in front of him and pointing straight ahead under the plaid fabric of his pants, and Zayn lifted a hand to trace it.

Liam looked down at Zayn’s delicate fingers touching there before he leaned forward a bit and ran his thumb over Zayn’s bottom lip. Motioning to the headboard, he instructed, “Scoot up a bit.”

A little too eagerly, Zayn did so, and once he reached the top of the bed, he plopped his head down directly in the middle of a pillow and invitingly splayed out his body. Straightaway, Liam molded himself to Zayn’s side and began tracing long trails all along Zayn’s skin, everywhere he could.

That was what Liam was most content doing for now, _touching_ Zayn. He’d been depleted from the feeling of Zayn’s skin for too long. He could honestly say he’d never seen someone come close to the sight of his boyfriend—especially not like this, naked and hard and shuddering under Liam’s fingertips, shuddering _from_ Liam’s fingertips—and the image of Zayn plus the _feeling_ of Zayn, it was—it was just. Liam swallowed loudly.

Zayn’s eyes closed as his lips parted, and his lashes curled out against his skin at the same time he let out a little sigh. Fingertips still skimming along Zayn’s body, Liam leaned in close to Zayn’s ear and whispered _“I love you“_ before pressing soft kisses to Zayn’s neck. Zayn whimpered and bared it further for him.

Liam’s cock was pressed against Zayn’s thigh, pushing forward and grinding onto his skin, once, twice, three times before he found lube beside his bed and began kissing his way down Zayn’s body. He stopped once he reached Zayn’s twitching legs, and he nuzzled Zayn’s resting cock before really touching it.

Completely hypersensitive, Zayn moaned at the first contact of Liam’s _fingers_ to his dick, but he soon opened his eyes when Liam didn’t really do much. He busied himself with opening a bottle of lube instead, and Zayn’s slackened mouth opened more.

Liam rubbed his fingers around, thoroughly warming up the gel on his fingertips before reaching down to touch Zayn’s hole. He didn’t push inside Zayn right away; that wasn’t his goal. Instead, he made circles around Zayn’s rim, around and around until he physically felt the muscle begin to relax under his finger—and even then, he didn’t penetrate. With his other hand, he gently squeezed the base of Zayn’s cock, holding it up from where it had been lying on his belly. Noticing a clear bead of fluid steadily leaking out of the slit at the top, he leaned down to lick it off while simultaneously sliding his index finger inside Zayn’s hole.

“ _Liam_ ,” Zayn whispered, arching his back off the bed.

Liam put Zayn’s entire cockhead in his mouth and just suckled for a bit, staying there while pushing and arching his finger impossibly further within Zayn. Zayn’s insides seemed to just suck his finger inside without effort, and Liam groaned and squeezed Zayn’s cock harder.

Eventually Liam gave in to Zayn’s noises and circled his tongue around the tip of Zayn’s cock, occasionally flicking it. That had sounds spilling from Zayn’s mouth, sounds that made Liam’s chest ache—uneven and shaky breathing to tiny, almost inaudible whimpers. Liam wanted to hear every single noise Zayn could make, so he flattened his tongue and finally lowered his mouth to engulf Zayn.

Despite wanting to keep his eyes closed, Zayn couldn’t stop staring at Liam. He was just so fucking good at this, sucking like his life depended on it. Zayn was fixated on watching his cock disappear as Liam’s mouth sunk down, reappearing shiny with spit as Liam slid back up.

Liam continued like that for a while, not moving the finger that was nestled inside Zayn while bobbing his head up and down. He hadn’t done this in a while—given Zayn head—and his cheeks were growing sore, but that didn’t slow him. If anything, it made him more determined, and he lifted his eyes to Zayn’s face.

Zayn gasped. He’d never had someone stare at him so adoringly while having his dick in their mouth, a finger inside him. Zayn’s eyes did some melty thing in response to the look from Liam, something that made Liam lift up and just stare at Zayn.

“I missed this,” Liam whispered. He smiled before looking down and easily adding another finger with his first inside Zayn.

Liam rested his forearm on the bed, the pads of his fingers facing upwards as his hand easily pistoned in and out. His fingers were thick, and they left burning trails the first few times they penetrated Zayn, but soon that faded to a delicious stretch that had Zayn unabashedly moaning in response to.

Liam shifted so he could watch Zayn’s face as he started to spread the two fingers apart. Zayn’s face was heaven epitomized—a soft expression with his full lips parted, the contours and shadows of his face something sculptors could never replicate. Zayn’s head was perfectly cushioned on the downy pillow underneath it, and his hair, soft and dark and messy like Liam liked it, feathered all around his face. It was the most divine thing Liam had ever seen.

Like this was his first time being fingered or something, Zayn’s heart rabbited inside his chest as he lay panting. When a third finger breached him and began pumping along with the rest, Zayn gasped and clenched up his walls, trying to pull as much of Liam inside himself as he could. In the back of his head, he knew it’d feel better if he let his muscles down there go loose, but he just wanted to feel Liam as deeply as possible, even if it was just his fingers.

Liam felt Zayn tense up, and he stilled his movements immediately. “Too much?”

Zayn quickly shook his head. “No,” he assured. “Keep—keep going.”

Liam’s eyes darkened. “Relax,” he murmured before slowly beginning to move his fingers in and out again.

Zayn exhaled then and shifted his legs for Liam while simultaneously relaxing all his muscles. Instantly, Liam’s fingers felt better—still snug, but only in the most perfect of ways—and Zayn sighed in contentment at the hitch in pleasure.

“Good,” Liam praised, staring up at Zayn and then back to Zayn’s hole, at his own wet fingers gently pressing in and out. “ _Good_ , baby. Feels good like this, yeah?”

Zayn lifted his left leg to rest his foot on Liam’s shoulder. This lifted and opened him up even more, and he bit his lip to channel the sudden intensity. He felt blissed out of his mind already.

Liam took Zayn apart slowly. Occasionally speeding up his movements so Zayn’s pleasure could crest, Liam never allowed those prickling sensations to turn into something finite. He wanted Zayn constantly on edge. Liam went back and forth between suctioning firmly and lazily around Zayn’s cock—then not at all—at fingering him with and without purpose, and the end result left Zayn whimpering, jerking, and just on the brink of coming.

Eventually, Liam lifted his head and slowly removed his fingers from Zayn’s fluttering hole. Shifting a bit to sit up on his knees, he asked, “Ready?”

Zayn licked his lips and swallowed. He nodded. His leg was now stretched out and up on Liam’s shoulder, but he didn’t drop it; he wanted it there.

Before Liam did anything, he turned his head and sweetly kissed Zayn’s ankle. He then took time to thoroughly slick himself up, and in the cool air, Zayn’s dick twitched just by watching Liam touch himself.

Liam didn’t remove his eyes from Zayn’s face when he gently took ahold of himself and pressed forward to touch Zayn’s entrance with the tip of his cock. For a brief instant, the two just stared at one another, expressing a tenderness and trust so deep that, though naked, Zayn felt stripped completely open. His red, pounding heart was raw and exposed only for Liam, and Liam must’ve felt it, too, because his expression looked astonished and somehow almost _hurt_ as he continued to memorize every inch of Zayn’s face and body before finally moving his hips forward and closing his eyes.

Upon feeling the widest part of Liam’s cock breech his rim and begin to truly fill him up, Zayn’s mouth fell open. It stung just like always, but the burn was welcome, and Zayn made some cut-off noise as Liam pushed in all the way.

As Liam began moving, both he and Zayn were quieter than they were accustomed to. The feeling being shared between them was louder than anything else, and it only felt appropriate to make soft noises.

When Liam began actually moving, Zayn reached down and palmed his balls lightly—not for pleasure, but just to hold them up and out of the way so he could see Liam better, so Liam could see _him_ better. Liam smiled at him.

Liam had used such an excess of lube that Zayn could feel it everywhere—his thighs, his arse, his balls, already at the bottom of his back. It had actually begun to leak down onto the sheets, leaving Zayn lying on a wet and sticky patch of it, yet he couldn’t be bothered by that.

Everything was raw, stripped down, emotions at the forefront of every single movement and sound. Though it was already messy, there was nothing dirty about it.

Liam stared at Zayn as he moved in earnest. “Good?”

“Yeah,” Zayn answered, whimpered almost.

Liam sped up his hips the tiniest amount, keeping Zayn’s leg on his shoulder as he leaned forward a bit. His eyes didn’t leave Zayn’s as he declared, “I love you”—and again, “God, I love you,” like he never wanted Zayn to forget.

“I love you,” Zayn just replied, kind of nodding, eyes wide and sincere.

It’d been a long time since they’d done this, just made love like this, encompassed in one another’s bodies and enjoying the closeness of one another with no outside worries about anything whatsoever. It was just them. It was nice. It was familiar. And, also, it was interesting, Zayn thought, that this was _more_ intense than any hardcore spanking could’ve been, that it was somehow rawer than anything else they’d done before.

When Liam’s thrusts turned more powerful—jerky and deep now but still quite slow—Zayn closed his eyes and dug his fingers into the bedsheets. Of its own accord, his arse moved, as well, trying to match any slight move Liam made despite not being very successful.

Zayn had to move his hands. Had to touch Liam more—everywhere. He clutched at him, definitely crying out now, softly, unsteadily. Too deep and shaky to be a cry or a yell, Zayn let out, again and again, _“Uhn, Liam.”_

“I got you,” Liam whispered as he kept sliding in and out of Zayn. Liam rubbed Zayn’s stomach and chest with the hand not already gripping his ankle, stopping to graze over Zayn’s nipple before dropping his hand to finally rest on Zayn’s hip. “I got you.”

Zayn still couldn’t stop chanting Liam’s name, as if he were beseeching something but didn’t know what, just knew he didn’t want Liam to ever stop because he was feeling the best he’d ever felt in his entire life—he was sure of it—and he voiced that fact aloud.

 _“I know,”_ Liam replied. His wavering voice sounded a bit unmanly, so he sped up his movements and fell forward, carelessly dropping Zayn’s leg and repositioning himself more horizontally on top of Zayn. He bent his knees and planted his hands on either side of Zayn’s neck to prop up his chest, but he still twisted his neck downward to match lips with Zayn. This made his back muscles protrude, and Zayn moved his hands to feel them. As he wrapped his arms around Liam’s ribcage, he clutched Liam’s skin desperately and whimpered.

All Zayn was aware of was the carnal pleasure of this—his legs willingly open, his arse tilted upwards at the most perfect angle, Liam’s lips touching his, Liam’s body moving on top of him, Liam _inside_ him.

“Oh my—Liam—feels— _fuck_ …”

“Yeah,” Liam moaned.

“You’re amazing,” Zayn breathed. He moved his hands to Liam’s sides, clutching his obliques and breathing shakily at the feeling of being continuously stretched and filled so deeply.

Liam couldn’t kiss Zayn anymore, could only keep his lips pressed to Zayn’s as he panted in his mouth. At being so impossibly close to Zayn, Liam’s pubic hair and balls were sticky with lube, and his cock was positively shining with it. The rest of his body was slick with sweat, and the noises from their wet bodies joining again and again would’ve been obscene if what they were doing weren’t so beautiful.

“I love you like this,” Liam whispered in some kind of delayed reply to Zayn. “God, you know how good you look like this? Just like this.”

Zayn whimpered in rhythm to Liam’s thrusts. Every time Liam moved forward, it was like Zayn just _had_ to let out a noise. At one particularly pleasurable drive, Zayn’s spine arched off the bed, and he shamelessly moaned. “ _Oohh_ —Like what?”

“Like this,” Liam repeated, ceaselessly snapping his torso forward but still not going as fast as he wanted to. He was holding back to make this last. Every muscle in his body might’ve been screaming at him in exertion, but he was spurred onwards by the burn. “Under me. Your—your legs wrapped around me.”

At that, Zayn squeezed his thighs harder around Liam’s hips, making his arsehole clench tighter around Liam’s hardness. Zayn’s insides clasped Liam’s cock so forcefully that Liam could barely thrust in and out anymore, could only deeply grind forward instead, and so that’s what he began doing.

Liam’s face looked pained. “ _God_.”

Everything was so amazing. Zayn was so amazing. When the heels of Zayn’s feet pressed down on Liam’s arse cheeks and pushed him in further, Liam wasn’t sure if his hips could even move anymore, but either way, it felt fucking fantastic.

Liam’s arms began shaking as he babbled on, “Your hands touching me… Being inside you like this. Just _you_ , all around me. I—God, I just love you, Zayn. I really fucking do.”

Zayn tried to keep control. With the way he and Liam were barely moving against one another, though, the head of Liam’s cock continuously touched against his prostate, massaging there with perfect force, and Zayn’s own sensitive cock was still wonderfully trapped between his and Liam’s stomach—and he-he didn’t know how much longer—

“Love you, too,” Zayn whimpered. “You’re inside me—you’re inside me so _deep_ —“

Liam swallowed and vigorously nodded, and sweat from his hair fell onto Zayn’s body. Suddenly, his arms gave out, and he dropped himself down to rest his upper body against Zayn’s. Liam’s weight now trapped Zayn’s cock entirely, and he let out the loudest noise he had yet, probably hurting Liam’s ears with it, but _shit_.

Liam moved cautiously for a while as he watched Zayn’s face. “You okay?”

Zayn lifted his neck and kissed Liam. It was hot, everything was so hot—the room should be foggy—holy hell. His kiss was uncoordinated. He was sloppily licking more than anything, and he answered as he kept his mouth to Liam’s, “ _Yes,_ don’t stop, don’t stop.”

Because Zayn seemed to be completely fucking losing it underneath him, Liam tried to keep his pace steady to drag out Zayn’s pleasure, but Zayn’s little whimpers caused his hips to inadvertently speed up _more_ , and, with his own mouth, he pressed Zayn further into the pillow again as he drilled into Zayn’s body without coordination.

With his face pressed against Zayn’s, noses smushing and mouths practically drooling into the other’s, Liam groaned, “ _Baby_.”

Zayn’s legs began kicking out, his fingernails digging deep into Liam’s shoulders, and he sobbed, “Fuck me, fuck me…”  And _shit_ , he made it sound romantic. Maybe because he was actually asking Liam to _make love to him_ in the only way he knew how. “ _More_ , Liam.”

Liam unbelievably began moving even more rapidly, almost leaving Zayn’s body completely before plowing back in. Tangible feelings poured out of Zayn, lust and elation and trust so strong Liam had to move his hands to cradle Zayn’s face, had to hold onto him somehow to stay attached in this moment they were sharing.

“You gonna come?”

Zayn nodded hurriedly. “Ooh, I’m—“

That was all Zayn could get out because then he felt his insides beginning to unravel, and he gasped. Mouth agape in a silent cry, he threw his head back and clawed evermore at Liam’s back. His legs quivered.

Zayn had his facial muscles squeezed into what Liam thought was the most beautiful image he’d ever seen. Witnessing that look of complete pleasure from Zayn finally made Liam succumb to everything and just _thrust_ , chasing that peak, wanting so badly to just _fill Zayn up_.

“Zayn, oh my God, _Zayn_ ,” Liam groaned.

Liam’s hips stuttered and he grunted loudly as he bit down on Zayn’s bottom lip. After one more forceful push and an extended groan, Liam abruptly stopped moving and released Zayn’s lip from his teeth. All he could do now was pant unbelievably hard, relaxing each of his muscles one by one.

Letting his legs fall to the side, Zayn finally relaxed, as well, and Liam closed his eyes with a small smile before utterly collapsing on top of Zayn.

Zayn couldn’t breathe well, but he found the overwhelming weight of Liam’s spent and sweaty body atop his own so reassuring that he didn’t voice his discomfort. Liam’s lungs were heaving, trying to get relief from breathing but only finding hot air instead. He didn’t say a word about his problem, either. He just held Zayn closer.

Eventually lifting his head up, Liam smiled before pressing his mouth to Zayn’s in exhaustion.

“Wow.”

His muscles were screaming, telling him he was going to feel the after-effects of this for days. He hoped Zayn would, too.

They were tired. They were lightheaded. They were okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I've edited this more in the past few months than have written it, but nevertheless, there are probably lots of errors because I really just wanted to publish it. Sorry in advance for that, and hopefully this was something okay to read, something that got you excited for the next chapter. Which will be what I promised before--the HOLIDAYS and LOUIS' BIRTHDAY and NIALL--or, Larry sex and OT5 sex stuff...
> 
> Oh, and I also wrote a scene for this chapter back in January about Harry reading a song Louis wrote and getting hard and giving Louis head in response to it, and that's included, too. So technically there's two Larry scenes. I just think it's fitting as shit because the song in my head was No Control even though I didn't exclusively mention that in the scene, and it's like...all this stuff with No Control has come out and I'm super excited.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's December. Louis' birthday is coming up, and he's in his feelings. Harry's excited about Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! 
> 
> Can I justly express exactly how hard it's been to write lately? I mean. Jeez. Just when I think there's nothing more that could possibly happen...No. No, there is definitely more than can possibly happen. And it's made it so hard... So, so so so so hard.
> 
> Anyway.
> 
> I suck, and even though it's super hard to write, I still find a way to write too much. I thought this would be the last chapter....but I made it way too long as usual....
> 
> So, I'm about 13k words into the ACTUAL LAST CHAPTER (I swear it) but I'm still not done with about two entire scenes.... So I figured I'd just post this since it's already done and so the last chapter wouldn't be like 30k. I also didn't want everybody to have to wait any longer.
> 
> I'll post the rest when I'm finished with that.  
> I've sort of lost confidence in my writing lately, so I don't know if anyone will even like this, but it is what it is! :)
> 
> Tags that Apply: Fingering, Hand-Jobs, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Light Bondage, Collars

“It's almost December. I hate December,” Louis griped after plopping down on the bench Zayn was already occupying. In lieu of an actual greeting, Louis complained to Zayn because _yet again_ here they were at the studio after _yet another_ long day yesterday, and _yet again_ Louis looked like shit—dull complexion, messy hair, clad in the same hoodie and joggers he’d worn off and on all week. Louis brought a cigarette to his lips, already his third of the morning. It smelled like heaven.

As Zayn bent over to fix the laces of his trainers, he lazily replied, “No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do,” Louis upheld. He cradled a free hand around the tip of his cigarette while flicking his lighter to its end.

“It’s your birthday month,” Zayn easily reminded him, lighting up a smoke himself. “And your favorite holidays are in this month.”

Louis sucked in a long drag of his cigarette. “Well, yeah,” he agreed, voice contorted as he inhaled the tobacco and felt himself instantly relax, “but the weather’s shit—”

“Oh, fuck off,” Zayn interrupted with a mutter, knowing Louis was just making up excuses. “You love the snow, too.”

“Yeah, it’s lovely,” Louis countered, gesturing all around him to the damp pavement, the dull and naked trees. Everything was overcast and grey. “Look at all this snow—how _beautiful_. Just spiffing weather, really.”

Zayn exhaled slowly, random bits of smoke escaping his nostrils and mouth at the same time. He made smoking a cigarette look like foreplay. “It’ll snow eventually.”

“Yeah, they said maybe next week,” Louis unenthusiastically responded. “And how perfect that’ll be, as we’ll be in the states then.”

“Because snow doesn’t occur there,” Zayn said dryly.

Turning his head, Zayn assessed Louis. Normally Louis’d be excited to be back to work— _really_ be back to work, not the occasional stuff the band had been doing off-and-on for the past few months. But here he sat, pulling reasons out of the sky as to why he hated the month of December. (Which, though infamously busy, he definitely did not hate.)

“It doesn’t,” Louis moodily answered. “Not where we’re going. We’re going to the warm part.”

That made Zayn genuinely laugh. “ _To the warm part_. As if the rest of the country is covered in snow and we’re the unfortunate ones who are just happening upon the _only_ warm part.”

“Suck my dick,” Louis muttered. He held his cigarette in between his index finger and thumb and brought it to his lips again.

Zayn smirked. “Well, get it out, mate.”

Louis blew smoke in Zayn’s face out from the side of his mouth.

“Oh, shit, that reminds me, actually,” he suddenly said, less grumbly than before. When Zayn’s eyebrows lifted, Louis continued, “A while back Niall said something about wanting to watch us or join us or something. All of us together, like. We ought to make that happen.”

“What _, together_ , together?” Zayn asked with slight interest. When Louis nodded (wearing a look that said _“Yeah, who would’ve thought”),_ Zayn’s lips twisted downwards a bit in consideration of the idea. “You told Harry?”

“Nah, I need to. I keep forgetting about it. Niall brought it up ages ago.”

Zayn flicked a long ash on the pavement and absentmindedly played with the back of his head with his free hand. “That’s right random, yeah? Why hasn’t Niall said anything to anyone besides you?”

“Think he feels weird about it, but…whatever,” said Louis, leaning back on the bench and widening his legs. “He’ll have to get over it if he’s serious about joining. Or watching, whatever.” He paused for a moment before asking Zayn, “You’d be fine with that, yeah?”

Zayn shrugged. “Sure.”

“Everything’s good with you and Liam now?” Louis asked, lifting his voice in a nice lilt. He knew the answer, of course, and if it weren’t for the boys’ renewed looks and warm touches in public, Louis’d be able to tell it simply from their auras alone. They were a sickeningly sweet and adorable couple.

“More than good,” Zayn replied, smiling.

“Brilliant,” Louis said authentically. He honestly was so happy to hear that. “But you know Liam’s going to coddle you for ages now, though.”

Zayn appeared happy with this. “He already is.”

Louis snapped his fingers. “Well, look. Harry and Liam are going out tonight with Niall, yeah? You just tell Liam about it, then, and I’ll tell Harry. Hopefully they’ll be all right with it. I don’t see why they wouldn’t. And then they could talk to Niall tonight, and then the lot of us can get actually get together and make it happen. Whenever we get a moment off,” ended Louis in a bit of a drone.

Zayn sighed. “Yep. Time for us to be all-work and no-play.”

“Oh, there’s going to be fucking play, Zayn,” Louis said firmly. As he flicked his cigarette way out ahead of him, he seemed to get some sort of rebounded energy from Zayn’s words. He sat up a bit and turned his body towards Zayn, and, with a voice a little louder than it was before, started, “It’s not even like I really _mind_ how busy this month is, you know?”

 _So here’s what’s bothering him_ , Zayn thought, gearing himself up for a long dialogue from Louis.

“It’s just—we’re in two billion directions at once when all of it could be scheduled way more sensibly in my opinion. Here we are meeting the new record label blokes, getting the ball rolling on the next album, and _great_ , that’s great, I’m very excited—”

“Clearly.”

“—it’s cool to be back in, like, the planning stage of things again,” Louis continued, speaking faster now, “but just—I don’t get it. We’re here gearing stuff up for the _next_ album already when promo’s still going on for the one we literally just released. _Let’s just squeeze all of this in at the same time_ , that’s brilliant,” he said in a flat voice. “And then all month we’ll be flown around the _world_ doing, like, television shows and _events_ and _product_ promo—then immediately after that, rehearsing for all our upcoming performances _and_ shooting a music video _and_ doing more appearances somehow. All while dealing with all this shit,” he said as he shifted his head to the building behind him, referring to the new executives they were now working with. “And then after that it’s more go, go, go. It’s mad. We shouldn’t be here doing this already.”

It was rare that Louis complained about work to this extent; normally Zayn was the one run-down from their schedules. Zayn knew by now to sort of take everything Louis griped about with a pinch of salt, however, because it was obvious that Louis loved what he did. Judging by the fact that Louis was already lighting up another cigarette, Zayn reckoned Louis just felt stressed and needed to vent to someone about his annoyances, and since Louis was always there to help _him_ , Zayn was gladly receptive to Louis’ complaints.

“Well, a lot of the television stuff is pre-recorded, you know, so that helps,” Zayn pointed out, parroting Liam’s words when Zayn had actually complained to him about the exact same issue only a few days ago. “And you know we’ll only have, like, a day to rehearse, as well, so that bit won’t take long, either.”

Louis nodded before sighing. “Still.”

“Yeah…it’s—I’m getting kind of tired of it, myself. I think about it a lot,” Zayn finally admitted. “On one hand it’s like, yeah, it’s our job, and we’re so lucky to have the opportunity to go all these places and see the impact we have on our fans—who are absolutely incredible, man, you really need to see this drawing someone put online the other day, _done with just a fucking pencil_ , they’re so talented—but I get it, I get what you’re saying.” He shrugged. “It’s draining. Sometimes I wish there were, like, another way to do things.”

“Yeah, something more logical,” Louis added.

Zayn had said the same thing to himself on multiple occasions, but it just didn’t seem possible. “I don’t know. Obviously it can’t really change. We’re involved in so much more than just the music now, and—”

“I know, I know, I’m just venting,” Louis interrupted with a heavy sigh. “I know it won’t change, so I should just be happy. I _am_ happy. We’ve had a relatively easy few months, actually. It’s about time everything started back up again. And you’re right, we’re really bloody lucky and I don’t take that for granted at all. This is all absolutely incredible and truthfully, it’s what I’ve wanted to do my whole life so I don’t even know why I’m complaining in the first place.”

Zayn tried to stay sensible. Thanks to Liam, he’d been feeling pretty optimistic lately, so it wasn’t very hard. “We do this every year, mate. It’s always the same. We’ll make it work. We’ll be tired, but we’ll still smash it. And you’ll have time to celebrate your birthday, don’t worry.”

“I—That’s beside the point. I haven’t even mentioned my birthday.”

“That’s what you’re worried about, though. Having enough time to visit your family. _Getting older_.”

Louis’ shoulders slumped. He wasn’t as discreet as he thought. “And me and Harry…” he trailed off and then looked away. “This shit always happens before we go on tour.”

“What does? Them forcing you two apart?”

Louis scoffed. He’d surprisingly forgotten about that for a second. “Well, yeah, there’s that, but also…just—we’re busy. We get jet-lagged, we get sick, we get tired. We have our own interests, of course, so we go off and do our own things a lot of the time. And it’s fun and healthy to have your own life obviously, but it just…feels sort of distant sometimes, you know? We go from seeing each other all the time and having sex multiple times a week to maybe only once every other week if we’re lucky.”

“Well…sex isn’t everything,” Zayn said reasonably.

“I know that. I’m not a fiend.”

Zayn laughed at the boyish pout on Louis’ face. Suddenly, the real cause for Louis’ grumbling became clear. “ _You do this every single year, mate_ ,” Zayn said in mild exasperation.

“Do what?”

“Get all depressed before your birthday. You love celebrating but hate turning a year older. So you’re all funny for the whole month.”

Louis made a noise around the stick in his mouth, and Zayn began to gesticulate with his hands as he continued speaking.

“I think you do this -- this psychological thing to yourself where you _know_ you’re getting older, so you, like, act all mardy about everything, like a grumpy old man. But keep in mind that just because you’re older than all of us, _you’re still young,_ Louis. And it always ends up fine, doesn’t it? You and Harry make it through your awful once-a-fortnight sex phase somehow,” he finished with a tad of sarcasm.

Louis chuckled but knew Zayn was right. “I—Just forget everything I’ve said. I’m being moody for no reason.”

Zayn always got the last bit of tobacco out of his cigarettes, and while Louis was still lazily smoking his second, Zayn had sucked his current one down until there was nothing left. Throwing it far away from him, he teased without even looking at Louis, “Yeah, Louis, stop being so moody, why don’t you?”

Louis’ face looked quite uncomfortable all of a sudden as he reached a hand behind the waistband of his joggers—into his underwear—and began scratching himself.

When Zayn noticed what Louis was doing, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Louis was really going at it down there. “…Er, should I be worried, or…?”

“Shut up,” Louis answered, grimacing with his cigarette between his lips still. “This—fucking— _arh_. Have you ever shaved down there before?”

Zayn shook his head. “Never _all_ of it, no.”

“Well, it itches like shit when it grows back,” Louis explained, still scratching his crotch and half-laughing around his cigarette. “Aghh. _Fuck me_ , man. This sucks.”

“Why d’you do it in the first place, then?”

“Because it looks good, Zayn,” Louis answered as if it were obvious. He finally inhaled his tobacco and lowered the cigarette from his mouth.

Zayn made a small noise of affirmation. “Can’t deny that.”

Louis didn’t reply, and Zayn couldn’t stop himself from laughing as Louis blew out smoke, making long sighs of relief. “Well, good thing we’re out in the open like this, really. Perfect spot to scratch your nuts.”

“Wouldn’t—be out here if—the rest would hurry the fuck up.” Louis finally took his hand out of his pants and slapped his thigh with impatience. “Where the fuck _are_ they?”

“We should just go inside,” suggested Zayn. “Probably got the time wrong and they’re all in there waiting for us.”

Louis looked at his phone, and seeing no new messages, he pocketed it and shook his head. Still, he stood up, crushed his half-finished cigarette out on the pavement, and made his way to the building, keeping his hands in his pockets and staring down at his shoes for the entirety of the walk.

 

* * *

 

It was about midnight, and Harry was drunk. The music filling the club boomed throughout his veins, and he was a little more in tune with the greater meaning of life, and he was drunk.

He kept thinking about Louis. He was having fun, of course, but having fun without Louis was somehow incomplete. He kept picturing Louis next to him, could already hear the jokes Louis would make about how Liam was taking bloody forever at the bar because he was patiently waiting off to the side instead of cramming his way in between the bodies and just fucking ordering something.

Anyway, Louis wasn’t there. But Louis had wanted Harry to talk to Niall tonight, about something that genuinely had shocked him at first but that he'd warmed up to now.  It made sense--If he and Louis were already fucking around with Liam and Zayn, why not have Niall join, as well?

The way the bodies were moving all around him made Harry suddenly remember to bring it up to Niall. 

“Hey!” Harry yelled.

Niall was bobbing his head to the side in time with the beat of the song loudly echoing around him, completely preoccupied by his own happiness. Harry repeated, tapping Niall’s shoulder, “Oi! Niall!”

Niall’s head quickly swiveled to the source of his name and, immediately, he grinned at the sight of Harry’s glassy eyes and slack face. Harry always looked a mess when he was drinking—his hair got disheveled, his eyes looked permanently wet, and he seemed to forget exactly how tall he was. He was currently leaning downward as if trying to make himself smaller, and his dark lips were doing that _thing_ they always did, pursing outward like he was just learning to speak or something.

“Somebody’s pissed!” Niall shouted back with good nature.

Harry pointed to his chest with his thumb, smiling goofily. Niall happily held up his own drink and had already gotten back to dancing when Harry suddenly hunched down even further and moved right beside him.

“What’s up?” Niall asked.

Leaning closely into Niall’s space, Harry cupped his mouth with two large hands and loudly slurred into Niall’s ear, “I hear you wanna watch ev’rybody fuck!”

Niall appeared genuinely confused for a moment. After looking around in slight horror that Harry’d been heard, he looked at Harry with a smile. It was way too loud for anybody around them to hear a thing. “Oh, he told you, then?”

Harry nodded heavily.

Niall stared at Harry for a few long minutes before laughing. “And?”

Harry smirked. “And what?”

“And you wanna talk about this now?” Though directly next to Harry, Niall’s voice hurt from speaking so loudly over the music. They’d been drinking for a few hours now, and it was funny that Harry was bringing this up right now.

“Why not?” Harry shouted back.

“Because I can barely even hear what you’re saying!”

Harry looked up. “Yeah, the DJ is slaying!”

Niall loudly laughed and turned his body away from Harry, dancing again. He’d have to talk to Harry later about what he told Louis. To Niall’s delight, it seemed like Harry welcomed the idea, at least.

The next second, Harry moved closer to Niall again. His large palm covered Niall’s entire face, and his fingers trailed down from Niall’s forehead to chin repeatedly, as if petting Niall.

“Niall,” Harry said. “Niall. It’s okay. Don’t fear it. Don’t be afraid.”

Niall twisted his face up in amusement. “How fucking gone are you right now?”

“I’m not gone. I’m right here.” Harry smiled brightly as if he were funny.

“Yes, you are,” Niall said, wrapping an arm around Harry’s neck. “And where’s that other one at?”

Harry shimmied himself out of Niall’s hold but still remained close so Niall could hear him when he answered, referring to Liam, “Bringing back drinks!”

“As if you need any more,” Niall said to himself.

“I’m hot,” Harry said. He pointed to the wall behind them, gesturing that he was going back to their table. Before he’d even made it off the dancefloor, however, Harry had already pressed Louis’ name on his phone and had it up to his ear.

“Lou. _Hey_ , Lou!” he said loudly. “Can you hear me?”

“I said hello,” Louis laughed.

“Can you hear me?”

“Clearly can, love,” Louis replied.

“Oh. _Hiii_.”

“I’m mad at you,” Louis spoke over the phone. He didn’t know why Harry even bothered to call him, actually, given that he was out partying, but it was cute that even though he was clearly having a good time, he was still thinking of Louis. “You’ve stolen my favorite party buddy.”

(“Well, fuck you, too, mate,” Zayn’s voice could be heard in the background.)

The music faded as Harry moved closer to the loos, but Harry still shouted into his phone as if Louis were a million miles away. “Who? Liam?” he asked obliviously.

“Nialler, of course,” Louis replied, smiling, “but Liam’s always fun, too.”

“He’s gone quite wild tonight, actually,” Harry replied. “Wanted to buy, like, five bottles, just for us three, and— Oh—there’s—he’s got two girls chatting him up now!”

“Please note that your _insanely_ loud voice can be heard throughout the room and Zayn is currently looking at my phone with squinty, evil eyes.”

“Oh, he’s escaping as we speak, Zayn!” Harry yelled even louder. “On the move. He’s spotted me! Oh—Niall, where did you come from? Liam sees me and Niall and he’s walking this way!”

“Harry, in case you haven’t noticed, the device you’re holding is called a phone. It’s designed to speak into at a regular tone, and by way of magic, it transmits your voice to my end. Absolutely no need to shout.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Harry said, a little quieter now. “It’s loud in here.”

“Yeah, but I can hear you all right,” Louis answered gently. There was a moment where neither Harry nor Louis said anything, but then Harry heard coughing.

“You’re smoking?” Harry guessed.

“Aye,” Louis replied through a giggle, then more coughing. “Zayn’s got the sickest shit I’ve ever had in my life.”

“Liam wasn’t doing anything wrong,” Harry explained. “Tell him.”

Louis made a funny noise. “I’m sure he knows, babe. But he’s been listening to R&B jams all night,” he commented. “So Liam better be prepared to slow-fuck to Usher tonight, I guess.”

“Actually, we’re all gonna go crash as Niall’s after this,” Harry drawled, and upon seeing Liam finally join the group, began to sing to him. “ _Zayn just wants to take it nice aaaand slow_.”

“Niall’s?” Louis asked.

Louis heard Niall and Liam began to sing, as well, and Harry’s lazy voice replied, “If that’s cool with you.”

Louis was genuinely taken aback. He was just looking forward to seeing Harry tonight, was all.  They worked together today, of course, but they hadn’t really _interacted_ since the morning.

“Oh,” Louis said. He quickly recovered. “Oh. Okay. No problem.”

“Why the voice? Did you not want to go?”

“What?”

“You’re invited, silly,” Harry slurred. “Niall says bring pizza.”

“ _Ooh_ ,” Louis repeated, bouncing his bum on the sofa. “How many? Like five?”

“Calm it down. You’re talking crazy.”

Louis’ grin covered half his face. Harry was so endearingly dumb while drunk. “That’s one for each of us.”

“Hmmm.”

“Right, I’m gonna let you go now, Curly. But, hey—di’you ask Niall about that thing?”

“Oh!” Harry remarked. “Yes.” Then a second later: “Sort of. Let’s maybe do this later. Together. I can’t think.”

 

****

 

Later that night--or earlier the next morning, whatever—all five of the boys discussed what clearly was an exciting topic for them: when they could all get together to fuck. Or, in Niall’s case, when he could watch everyone else fuck.

They were all sat on Niall’s huge sectional sofa, spread out every which way, and Niall was lounging directly in the middle of it, facing the television.

Sat on the very far right side of the couch, Harry lazily smiled. How strange life seemed to Harry, as he watched and listened to everybody with interest, that they were essentially discussing _having an orgy_ while eating pizza.

Everybody had had a bit too much to drink (or smoke), which might’ve been a good thing because it kept the conversation light. Deciding that their upcoming time in New York would be the only probable moment they’d be able to do anything, everybody seemed satisfied with the plan, and spirits were up. Everyone was happy. Excited.

“Good, ‘cause it’s not been fair, you know,” Niall joked. “You all’ve been leavin’ me out.” He was talkative and drunk, probably as drunk as Harry—but if it weren’t for his rosy cheeks, no one would’ve been able to tell.

“So unfair,” Harry repeated to Louis’ right.

“Okay, so that’s settled,” Zayn finally said after everyone had finished their pizzas.

Zayn had been quite insistent about wanting Liam’s attention ever since arriving at Niall’s house, and he was currently stroking Liam’s thigh with his foot. When Liam finally looked at him and stopped talking to Niall and Louis, Zayn displayed his facial features in a soft yet sultry look he knew drove Liam mad, hoping to provoke him into action.

And it worked. Zayn was smug when Liam finally pounced and positioned himself horizontally on top of Zayn. Finally finally finally, Liam kissed him, and Zayn almost preened.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit weird, though?” Louis asked, disregarding the couple’s kissing to continue the conversation. It was strange to him to have these types of things pre-arranged. He much preferred spontaneity. “Like, _planning_ for this sort of thing?”

Liam shrugged. “You know we’re probably going to be doing it, anyway,” he answered, his words muffled against Zayn’s lips.

Louis raised his eyebrows. “Well, how very presumptuous of you.”

“Shut up, we’re busy,” Zayn muttered against Liam’s mouth, widening his legs so Liam could fit more snugly atop him.

“Well, fine. Have fun with Liam’s fragrant sweat falling on you,” Louis sassed.

Liam immediately pulled back from Zayn to smell himself. “I smell like cologne,” he insisted, his face turned downwards like a puppy.

Louis only made a faux-disgusted face in reply.

“Oh, speak for yourself with your stale-pot-breath, Louis,” Zayn said, pulling Liam back down by his shirt.

Louis rolled his eyes and turned to Harry. He was busy scrolling through Instagram, though, liking _the_ most random things, so Louis turned left to face Niall, instead.

“You ready for this, Niall? This is what you’re in for,” Louis said, gesturing to Liam and Zayn writhing softly against one another on their side of the sofa. “A complete sweat-fest from these two.”

As Zayn and Liam were now all tangled up with their lips inseparable, they couldn’t be arsed to rejoin the conversation even if it was to make come-backs to Louis, so Louis began breaking leftover pieces of his pizza crust, preparing to throw it at their faces.

“Well, all of you get off together and I’m stuck to do it all by myself all the time, so I might as well join in on the fun,” Niall laughed. “Think I’m prepared for sweat. Comes with the territory, yeah?”

Louis just chuckled. “Mate, you have no idea.”

Niall grinned and took a sip of beer.

“Right then. So we’ll pencil you in on the eighteenth, that correct?” Louis asked in half-seriousness, now focusing his attention on his aim. It seemed he was off his game tonight, maybe from smoking too much earlier. Nothing was hitting where he meant for it to.

Harry laughed stupidly loudly out of nowhere and leaned his body to the side. His heavy body fell downwards, and with his head rested on Louis’ lap, he slurred, “Don’t say it like that, Lou. It’s not like that.”

“What’s it like, then?” Louis asked, cackling when he succeeded in hitting Zayn’s cheek with a hard bit of bread. Zayn lifted a hand from Liam’s back to show Louis his middle finger.

Harry’s voice was drowsy. “Just, like. Whenever it happens. Around that time.”

“That’s just when we’re going to have the most free-time, is what drunk-arse here is getting at,” Niall supplemented.

“Well, then, good. New York,” Louis stated. “So. You sure we’re in agreeance, boys?” he yelled across the room to Liam and Zayn, still pelting them with pizza crusts.

Still snogging without a care, somebody made a noise that sounded positive, and Louis looked at Niall again. He smiled genuinely before turning his attention to Harry in his lap who was currently nuzzling against the denim there like a cat. Louis idly scratched Harry’s hair.

Just then, something hit Louis’ head, and he lifted his fingers from Harry’s hair to his own, pulling out crumbly bits of hard bread. Louis narrowed his eyes and looked immediately to Zayn, quickly darting across the sofa to hide himself behind Harry just as every bit of stale bread unexpectantly came flying across the room back at him.

“Shit!” Louis giggled. “Harry, hide me, hide me!”

 

* * *

 

“I think you’re overestimating the size of the lounge, there, Harry,” spoke Louis through his phone a few days later.

Louis and Harry had both been out of town for the past few days, celebrating various family members’ birthdays in their hometowns. Louis was thrilled to have been able to see his family (especially because he had to miss Thanksgiving with them), but now that he was back in London, he had to squeeze in some desperately-needed holiday shopping for everybody. He had mere weeks to get all of it done, and the thought was beginning to make him anxious. By now he’d normally be way ahead of the game—gifts spilling out of closets, shoved under beds, horrendously-wrapped and waiting to put under the tree.

_The tree._

Currently at the supermarket, Louis was picking up some quick groceries when he’d received that particular picture from Harry, and— _no_.  Just no. Immediately, Louis rang Harry to talk him out of making a brash decision.

“You think so?”

“Yes,” Louis replied, not unkindly. “Don’t think that one’ll work, love.”

“But it’s lovely.”

Louis heard the dampened enthusiasm in Harry’s voice. “It _is_ lovely, but you’re mad if you think it’s going to fit in the house.”

“Christmas trees are _supposed_ to be big, Louis,” Harry pointed out.

The photo Harry had sent wasn’t of a big Christmas tree; it was of a _colossal_ Christmas tree. A flock of birds probably lived in it. Hell, it could probably serve as an entire woodland habitat, Louis supposed, considering how massively dense it was.

Louis trapped his phone in between his ear and his shoulder as he dropped more items into the basket he was holding. Sweets, sweets, tea, more sweets, the junkiest junk food he could find. He’d managed to fight off whatever illness Harry had probably given him almost immediately after he started feeling unwell last week, so now he felt the need to pamper himself with pure rubbish. Plus, he always added candy to the large piles of gifts he gave to his sisters for Christmas, so why not buy in excess? He knew now that he probably should’ve grabbed a trolley rather than a hand-basket, however, because his arm was beginning to burn from the weight of his shopping. He always went a little overboard—okay, a _lot_ overboard—when it came to buying for others.

Louis smiled. It’d been another busy fucking day, but Harry always made Louis smile. “So…it’s going to fit exactly _where_ , Haz? You planning on extending the ceiling a few meters? Clearing out all the furniture in the house? _Sawing_ off the entire top half of that monstrosity?”

Harry was silent. Louis could already picture his stupid, gum-chewing smirk.

“I’m beginning to think, Lou, that you don’t trust any of my holiday findings at all. You said the same thing when I went to the pumpkin patch in October,” he hummed. Harry made his voice a tad higher in his best Louis-impression and chirped, “ _’Tha’s propeh massive, Harreh, wot’re yeh try’na do_ , _tek tha lahgest one theh got?’”_

Louis barked out a laugh and grinned. “Okay, okay, right— _first_ of all, I told you that your turkey was the best I’ve ever tasted, so don’t fault me on that holiday finding,” he retaliated quickly, referring to the Thanksgiving dinner Harry had helped prepare with his family in Holmes Chapel last week. Louis had already eaten all the leftovers that Harry had brought back. “And _secondly_ , what a shit impersonation. That sounded like fucking Zayn.”

“Absolutely did not,” Harry brushed off. “So, you agree my turkey was good, and when I brought that pumpkin home I actually recall you telling me it was _perfect_ , so what you’re _basically_ saying is…you would love it if I bought this tree. This very tree. This massive and festive and perfectly perfect tree.”

Louis rolled his eyes. “You realize you’re going to have to completely rearrange the room in order to fit it in the one spot that can handle its enormous size, don’t you?”

“You speak to me like this is my first time doing this,” Harry scoffed. “I’ll have you know, I am an expert at fitting big things into small spaces.”

“Aw, babe, you flatter me so.” Shifting the basket in his hand, Louis lifted his other hand to hold his mobile better to his ear again. “It’s not pine, is it? You remember last year’s tree was pine—“

“Ooh, last year’s tree,” Harry said in some wondrous, far-off voice. “That was a good one. It was so _pretty_. Remember how we put that ribbon around it and—”

“Yes, the tree was sick, but _as I was saying_ ,” Louis spoke over Harry, “it was pine _,_ and you were allergic to it. So you shouldn’t get pine again this year.”

“This one’s fir,” Harry assured. “And I can’t wait ‘til you see it, baby. You’re going to absolutely love it.”

Louis couldn’t control the way his face softened in tenderness. He never thought he’d meet somebody more excited about Christmas than he himself. Monstrosity or not, Louis knew he’d love the tree.

“I’m sure I will.”

 

***

 

Louis loved the tree.

Situated in the corner of the lounge and only needing mild thinning and alterations in order to fit there, the tree was admirable once the pair had succeeded in lugging it off the top of Harry’s vehicle, squeezing it through multiple doorways, and maneuvering it around a few dozen obstacles standing in the way of its final destination.

“Well,” said Louis, looking up all soft and twinkly-eyed to take in the entire nine feet of the tree, “we only broke a single lamp getting this thing here, so, all-in-all, I say well done.”

Harry wore a calm smile that quickly turned into a dumb, toothy grin. He gave Louis an exaggerated high-five before smacking him on the bum and saying, “Told you it would fit. And here you gave me shit about it.”

Louis shrugged. “I give you shit about everything, to be fair.”

“And I put you in your place for it, to be fair,” Harry countered, squeezing the hand still resting on Louis’ arse. He gave Louis a mildly suggestive look before directing his attention to the tree again.

The sides of Louis’ mouth lifted slightly. This game they played would never get old.

As if Harry were following Louis’ thoughts, he kissed him. It was nice. They stood in front of the tree kissing without aim for a few moments until Louis stopped to just hug Harry instead. Leaning his entire weight onto Harry, Louis felt heavy, as if all his energy were depleted from concentrating on work so hard this week. When it came to working, he’d either wholly absorb himself in what he was doing or he’d just pretend to be busy and actually not do much. Because his energy came in spurts, there really wasn’t an in-between for him. And frankly, it left him exhausted as shit.

At least Harry was always there for him. Harry, who was currently rubbing Louis’ shoulders and neck, smiled at the subconscious noises Louis let out before asking, “Ready to change clothes and get to work?”

Louis sighed internally. He was tired. All week he’d still felt sort of residually sick from whatever Harry had given him last week—a sore throat and just a general run-down feeling—and that coupled with how busy the band’s schedule was beginning to get was wearing him out. His body wasn’t used to it yet.

“Think I’m ready to turn in, actually.”

Harry took a step back but still held on to Louis at the shoulders.

“Aw, come on, Lou, where’s your holiday spirit?” he asked. “I bought us hats to wear and everything.” To accentuate his statement, Harry walked over to some bags he’d brought inside, and after rummaging around in one, he enthusiastically lifted his purchases. “You’re always excited to decorate the tree…”

It had become a tradition for Harry and Louis to put on corny pajamas, drink rum-spiked eggnog, and listen to carols on the radio while fancying up the tree. And they never just brought a tree inside without decorating it the same night; that would be silly. Judging by Harry’s hopeful face, Louis could tell that Harry was especially happy to finally be able to do this. Louis just knew he’d break Harry’s heart if he abandoned their custom to go to sleep instead.

 _Yes_ , Louis was tired, but when did he used to let a bit of fatigue stop him from staying up late with Harry? From staying up late in general? He only had a limited amount of alone-time with Harry before being bombarded by work, after all. Zayn’s words from earlier in the week echoed through his head, about how his dread of growing older somehow translated into him _acting_ older—worn-out and grouchy. He wasn’t going to be that person. He still had, like, a _majority_ of his twenties left. His skin was good. The only wrinkles he had were tiny ones by his eyes from smiling. He was _youthful_ still.

Noticing whatever thinking-look was on Louis’ face, Harry asked, “You all right? Still not feeling well?”

“I’m fine,” Louis said immediately.

“Faker.”

“No, really. I wasn’t even _really_ sick to begin with. I’m just sort of tired. But of course I want to decorate the tree,” Louis reassured, soft-spoken. He smiled a genuine smile. “I’ll catch my second wind once you switch on the radio, I’m sure.”

Harry beamed, and that was everything to Louis.

And so they changed clothes and got to work. Louis even delighted in the process simply because he was alongside Harry, and Harry’s mood was infectious. Having fun, Louis faintly danced to the radio while Harry sang along to it, and though Louis frequently spilt eggnog and pine-needles onto the floor, both boys were unconcerned about the mess.

Louis almost split a rib laughing when they actually _did_ find a bird’s nest in the middle of the tree, but Harry was ecstatic. “Doesn’t that mean good luck?” he kept asking. “I read somewhere that it means good luck, Lou.”

“Good luck or not, it’s still a bird’s nest,” Louis responded, a smile taking over half his face. “ _You chose a tree so large there were birds living in it.”_

Harry frowned. “Yeah, well, birds do live in trees. Tiny little guys worked so hard on that nest and now they have no home… Hopefully they’re okay wherever they are now…”

Louis’ entire face softened. He pushed himself up on his tip-toes and kissed Harry, holding Harry’s face in his hands. They gave each other a few short kisses, ending with Louis rubbing his nose side-to-side against Harry’s before planting his feet completely on the floor again. The frown left Harry’s face.

Given the size of the tree, it took quite a long time for the pair to get everything done, but once they both were satisfied with their work, they took a few steps back to see the finished product.

Bedecked with lights, ornaments, ribbons, and a giant star at the top that even Harry had to stand on a chair to secure, the tree looked like something from a magazine. Harry, endlessly smiling, moved behind Louis and took out his phone. After snapping a photo both of the tree and then of him and Louis, he wrapped his arms around Louis’ waist and sighed wistfully.

Entwining his hands atop Louis’ stomach and tucking his chin on Louis’ neck, Harry asked, “Did we do good or did we do good?”

“I believe we did good, Harold,” Louis answered, yawning. “Well done, well done.”

A tiny bit buzzed from the rum, the pair had begun swaying slightly. Harry’s long fingers started to caress Louis’ tummy as he just stared ahead, listening to the soft music in the background. The evening was comfortable.

Harry couldn’t think of another word to describe how he was feeling besides _satisfied_. He and Louis had made this house into a real home in the time they’d lived there. It was theirs. Together. And Harry, young as he was, knew that he wanted to stay there forever with Louis.

Contented and growing rather lustful by the minute, Harry pressed light kisses along Louis’ jawline and down his neck. When he opened his mouth wider to trail his tongue along the same trails of skin, Louis tilted his head to the side, tried to hold in another yawn, and failed. Louis’ eyes had slipped closed at the comfortable pleasure from Harry’s mouth, and he was unhappy when Harry backed away saying, “Baby, you’re tired. Let’s go to bed.”

Louis really didn’t have any energy to be anything but earnest, and after he turned around, he shook his head and rebelled in a bit of a whine, “No.”

“You always want to fight going to sleep,” Harry murmured in amusement, reaching out and tracing Louis’ sharp cheekbone with his thumb. “Just earlier you wanted to turn in, and now you’re yawning but refusing to.”

“But— _no_ , I want this.”

Louis felt… _desperate_ almost. Soon he and Harry wouldn’t be able to do this anymore, just enjoy nights together like this. To be alone, to have sex in their own house without fear of getting caught, to be as noisy and uninhibited as they fucking wanted. It would all be hotel-room sex, or worse, tour bus sex. And though hotel-room sex landed them in a pretty good deal with Liam and Zayn—and now probably Niall—Louis knew he’d indefinitely miss _home_ and _just Harry_ when the band began travelling. He had his spurts of adventurism and loved being able to see new places, of course, but deep down, he was a homebody. A sap. So sue him.

Harry looked entertained by Louis’ pout. “Want what?”

“…Whatever this is,” Louis replied, gesturing to his neck. He tilted his head to the side a bit, exposing it better. “Come back.”

Lately, Louis’d prided himself on being a better communicator. Harry hated it when he kept things to himself—especially things that worried him—so when Harry kept looking at Louis like he wanted an explanation, Louis straightened himself out and began the exceptionally mood-ruining admission of his feelings.

“Look, Harry,” Louis said as he sighed, “you know what’s about to happen.”

Harry looked to the side before meeting Louis’ eyes again. “No,” he whispered conspiratorially. “What’s about to happen?”

“ _Work_ is what’s going to happen.”

“Err…yeah,” Harry answered in confusion, shrugging a bit. “It already has happened, hasn’t it? Always picks up about this time. Break’s over.”

“I know,” Louis said, looking down.

“We finally get to perform new stuff now. _Travel_ , meet people, try new food. It’ll be fun,” Harry said. “…Are you not excited? You don’t look excited.”

“I’m excited about all of that yes, but—but that’s way less time for _us_ ,” Louis replied honestly. “And I’m so used to having you around, like, all the time. I’m going to miss you.”

Harry smiled gently. “Miss me? But we’ll be working together, love.”

“Together but separate,” Louis muttered.

“…You’re worried that work’s gonna get in the way of us or something?”

“Well, yeah, obviously,” Louis confessed. “Because it will.”

“Not this time,” Harry said firmly. “Won’t let that happen.”

Louis looked stony. “We can’t even stand next to each other on stage, Harry. Can’t sit next to each other, can’t fucking be seen _talking_ to one another—”

“Sure, we can,” Harry replied. He’d seen what their closeting had done to Louis first-hand, and though he wasn’t going to outright _shag_ Louis on stage or anything, he was done with ignoring him in public. He refused. “Watch me. Just wait. I’m going to stand next to you all the time this year. I’m going to get crazy with it, babe. Stand next to you whenever I fucking want. I’ll go as far as _talking_ to you, even. Maybe a clandestine ear-whisper here and there.”

Louis’ mouth twitched. Harry had the most absurd phrases sometimes, honestly, but Louis still didn’t truly smile. “And our sex life?” he asked bluntly. “Everything’s gonna change. And don’t say it won’t, ‘cause it always does. We’ll be in different places a lot of the time doing different stuff.”

“Well, when we’re not in the same cities it _is_ a bit hard to have sex,” Harry joked, looking entertained by his own humor, “but there’re ways around that. I seem to remember you fancy phone sex, yeah?”

Louis’ mouth still remained a straight line.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Harry remarked, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around Louis. He kissed Louis’ forehead before frowning a bit and asking, “You’re—? Are you really that unhappy with it? I mean, yeah, there’s like, a bit of a dip this time of year, but I’ve always thought it to be pretty remarkable when we do get together. If you’ve been that unsatisfied you should’ve—”

“No,” Louis said immediately upon seeing Harry’s slightly hurt face, “no, I didn’t mean it like that. Yeah, of course it’s remarkable. It’s just—“ He sighed and then shrugged. He used to be ashamed to admit his self-labeled clinginess, but sometime in the last few months he seemed accepting to the fact that it was _okay_ to miss Harry when he was gone. He _was_ bloody in love with the guy. “I just need your attention. Er..Constantly. I like having you around.”

Harry’s face softened. “Well, good. I like having you around, too.”

“Who wouldn’t,” Louis said quietly.

Despite Louis’ attempt to lighten the mood, Harry still felt the need to reassure him further. “I promise that no matter where we are in the world, if we’re apart, we’ll always stay in contact. Like we always do. That won’t change. You know we always still talk or FaceTime at least once a day. If not more. And we can speak on the phone whenever you want. I’ll always answer. We can do all the virtual sexy acts your heart desires.” (At that, Louis snickered.) “And seriously, when we’re working together it’ll be better, as well. I promise it will. I’ll sit and stand next to you all the time. I’ll sit and stand _so hard,_ you have no idea. You’re not even gonna know what to do with yourself.”

“Okay,” Louis answered. He believed Harry, yet still, he teased, “You’d better not find anybody cooler than me when you fuck off to L.A., though.”

“Very unlikely. You’re the coolest of cool.”

“I don’t know, Haz,” Louis said. His pixie-like eyes crinkled as he smirked. “You seem to hang out with some hip, hip folks. Don’t know if I can keep up with your celebrity friends.”

“Shut up.” Harry smiled. The Christmas hat he wore made him look cute, but Louis knew how easily that demeanor could switch. Oh, how he hoped it would switch. “We’ll be fine, baby. We always are.”

After kissing Louis, Harry turned him around so he was facing the tree again, and he returned to his earlier position of holding onto Louis’ tummy while resting his chin on Louis’ shoulder. Louis had since taken his own Christmas hat off, and his soft and fluffy hair smelled clean when Harry leaned in. Harry apparently hadn’t shaved his face today, and his rough facial hair tickled Louis slightly.

“You know, I’ve always had this fantasy,” Harry whispered into Louis’ ear after long minutes of silence. “Have I ever told you what it was?”

“That’s right vague,” Louis replied wryly, sarcastic despite his brain screaming, _yes, yes, yes_. “Maybe you have, and maybe you haven’t—how’m I supposed to know what you’re referring to?”

Harry took a tiny bit of flesh from Louis’ earlobe in between his teeth, gripped it, sucked it, and let it go. “I’ve always fantasized about fucking you under a Christmas tree.”

“Well, that’s… convenient,” Louis replied, interested. He shifted his hips a bit so his bum pressed to the front of Harry’s pajama bottoms. The thin fabric there left no denying that Harry was reacting to their closeness, and when Harry placed his hands on Louis’ hips and pulled him in snugger, slightly spreading his legs and hunching his back so he could match his cock to Louis’ arse, Louis contentedly sighed. “Why’s that?”

“It’d be pretty. Like, the tree lights on your skin...so tan no matter the season… I bet it would, like… _glow_.” Harry trailed his fingers along Louis’ hipbones. “And maybe we’d have the fire on, and that would be flickering on your skin, as well. And your tongue would taste like gingerbread, and maybe…maybe it would be snowing outside. It’d be chilly but I’d keep you warm.”

Louis, following along in his mind, felt his heart begin to beat stronger like it took up his whole chest. The words alone were hot, but Harry’s deep voice only exemplified their impact. “Well, this is very thought-out, isn’t it?”

Suggestively, Harry rocked his hips against the curves of Louis’ arse, lightly but with intent. “As fantasies often are.”

“It can’t be as romantic as you’re making it sound, then, if you said the main fantasy was _fucking_ me.”

“Fucking can still be romantic,” Harry responded quietly. “The way I’d do it.”

“And how would you do it?” Louis asked, playing along. His insides, already swimming from the molasses-slow voice of Harry, melted and turned his own voice into soft syrup, as well.

“Very, very well.” Louis felt a bit of hot air by his ear from Harry’s chuckle. Harry’s fingers had since gone under Louis’ sweater and undershirt and were now trailing bare skin, and he continued answering as he pinched a bit of Louis’ tummy, “Slowly. So slow you’d maybe feel like telling me to hurry up, but you wouldn’t really do that because you’d be good.”

Harry resumed kissing Louis’ neck in between every one of his sentences, and each little shudder from Louis only egged him on. “I know you’d be good for me. And I’d make you know—“ He paused for a kiss— “without any doubt–” and another kiss—“that I only ever want you. Only ever want you to feel—the _best_ – pleasure possible. Because of me. Because I love you so bloody much and you look so amazing when you’re feeling good, when you’re _high_ off it, that it’s all I ever want to look at for the rest of my life. You.” Harry ended with a tiny little kiss-suck-nip on Louis’ neck before backing away with an audible smacking of his lips. “That’s sort of romantic, yeah?”

Louis’ mouth was slackened from desire already, but he couldn’t talk. As an answer, he just sighed.

Harry dropped his mouth to Louis’ neck again while snaking his hand down to the front of Louis’ pajama bottoms and just barely touching Louis there. “But I’d also stay in charge…So you know that you don’t have to worry about anything but feeling good. Would you like me to do that?”

Again, Louis made a barely-perceptible noise in response.

“…I can show you, if you’d like,” Harry finished. “Unless you’re being quiet because you’re too tired and ‘ve changed your mind.”

Louis cleared his throat. “Def-definitely not,” he said. Maybe Harry didn’t even realize it, but with every up-and-down cadence of his voice came a slow but steady back-and-forth grinding of his hips, and it was almost as if he were already _inside_ Louis. “I want you to show me.”

Harry released his feather-light hold on Louis’ cock and gently spun him around. Any earlier mirth from his eyes had left, and he looked at Louis as if scanning his eyes for sincerity. Whatever he saw reflecting there was apparently enough for him, and silently, he turned around and strolled to the boxes of leftover Christmas decorations while Louis waited and watched in curiosity.

When Harry turned around, he took off the hat he was wearing. His brow was thick, his expression serious and concentrated. Keeping one hand behind his back, Harry walked forward until he was again in front of Louis.

“I thought tonight,” Harry started, clearing his throat, “I could tie your hands behind your back.” Never breaking eye contact with Louis, he slowly held up what he’d been hiding.  “With this.”

A string of tinsel, red and sparkly, dangled from Harry’s lazy fingers. Louis stared at it, thinking only of _tying_ and _hands_ and _behind back_ , not whatsoever about the off-kilter object Harry had chosen. Maybe he stared at it too long, though, for Harry’s penetrating face soon became concerned.

“Too weird?” Harry asked in a stage-whisper, intimately. Though his desire to use it was obvious, he felt the need to reassure, “We can always just drape it around the tree branches instead. It’d be a pretty sight either way.”

Funny, Louis thought as his mind raced, that Harry would feel the need to ask if it was weird to want Louis’ hands restrained. Here was the guy Louis wore _lingerie_ in front of, here was the guy Louis called _Daddy_ sometimes, asking _him_ if tying his hands together would be weird. Maybe it was just because it was tinsel, then, that had Harry acting a little unsure. But— _really_. They’d done stranger things.

When Louis didn’t respond, just kept gawking at Harry’s hand, Harry lowered his arm and said, “It—okay, then. Just a thought.”

Louis found himself shaking his head yet again. His eyes finally flickered to Harry’s, and to Harry’s delight, he was smiling, a little piece of lip trapped between his teeth. “No—no, yeah. Sorry. I’m just imagining it.”

Some emotion briefly flashed on Harry’s face. “Imagining it in a good way?”

Louis nodded.

“You want it, then? You sure?”

“God, yes,” Louis answered immediately. His brain had cleared just the tiniest bit, the hypnotizing effect from Harry’s mouth and earlier words momentarily lifted. Louis expressed, “This week has been absolute hell, and, seriously, I want this. I need this.”

Harry stepped forward, hogging up Louis’ space. “Need me to take care of you?” he clarified.

Louis closed his eyes and nodded before leaning forward and wrapping his arms around Harry’s middle. Resting his cheek on Harry’s chest, he quietly sighed. “I just—I _need_ —my mind to go blank. This will— _yes_.” He couldn’t make sentences.

Harry’s hands ran up and down Louis’ back, the tinsel still dangling from some of his fingers. “Okay.”

Louis looked up at Harry. “Did you, like, think of using… _that_ …for this purpose when you were buying it?” he asked. “Me restrained?”

“Yes,” Harry frankly replied. Of course he had.

There was a tiny moment of silence in which Louis’ eyes glossed over as they stared up into Harry’s green, green, green ones, and then Louis was projecting himself hard onto the balls of his feet, smashing his lips to Harry’s and speaking incredulously into his mouth, “ _God_ , Harry, you make my dick so hard.”

It was the only thing Louis could think of saying, and it might’ve sounded stupid, but it was true.  Louis was happy with the result, either way. Harry’s hands immediately tightened on Louis’ back, and one trailed down to grasp an arsecheek while his lips feverously responded to Louis’. Pressing Louis’ entire body in close to his own, Harry quickly dominated the kiss, molding his lips to Louis’ and leading each wet glide of their mouths, and maybe it was because he was suddenly hit with a feeling so deep in his chest that it hurt, but Harry made a sound curiously like a whimper before removing his mouth.

“’M gonna make you feel so good, baby,” Harry almost panted. “It’s gonna feel so good for you.”

The sides of Louis’ mouth twitched in serenity. He licked his lips. “I know,” he murmured.

Harry lowered his head once more and snogged Louis for long moments. Though it was a little less rushed this time around, their groping and squeezing and restless wiggling against each other pressed the tips of their cocks against one another more than once, and it was becoming too much. Harry needed Louis naked.

“Take off your clothes for me,” Harry spoke, taking a step back. Louis gladly followed the simple instruction and reached for the bottom of his jumper, still staring at the tinsel in Harry’s hand. Before he could even pull his sweater over his belly button, however, Harry interrupted, “Actually, tell you what.”

Bright and blue doe eyes looked forward to Harry as he continued, “Go upstairs first. Open the drawer on my side of the bed and get out your collar.”

Louis’ already-dilated eyes widened just a bit, and his body stilled. The shock he felt had to’ve been written all over his face.

 _His collar_.

How could it be that he’d all but forgotten about its very existence until this moment? Louis let go of his jumper and sounded far too enthusiastic as he asked, “Am I—you want me wearing it when I come back?”

“No,” Harry answered immediately. “Just bring it to me. You’re never to put it on yourself. I do that.”

Louis nodded and was off.

“Louis.”

Freezing, Louis looked at Harry again, smiling when Harry added, “The lube, too.”

Upstairs, Louis stalled. He opened the nightstand drawer like the drawer itself was precious, held the collar in his hands, and admired it like it’d been ages since he’d even seen it—because it _had_ been. Already, it was like he’d dove in warm water and was wholly submerged, his ears ringing and vision fuzzy. Sleepier than he ever imagined. And Harry hadn’t even put it on him yet.

Feeling like his legs were mechanical, Louis re-entered the room downstairs, hands clasping the collar and tiny plastic bottle in front of his noticeably-extended crotch. Harry had switched off the music and now had the gas fireplace going, but Louis’ sight was so off anyway that he wasn’t cognizant of much.

Harry smiled. It was amazing how Louis’ demeanor could change so much so early in the night, but it was blatant. It was like Louis was a different person, all passive and tame in the wake of such a symbolic representation of belonging. A small band of leather.

Instead of requesting Louis to remove his own clothes again, Harry silently took care of that. He carefully placed both the collar, lube, and string of tinsel on a side table before sliding all of Louis’ soft nightclothes off to lie in a pile by Louis’ feet. When he was finished, he shamelessly ogled Louis’ completely bare body.

Starting from Louis’ feet where he’d just peeled off Louis’ bottoms, Harry’s large hands caressed Louis all the way up past his strong and hairless legs, the curvy widening of his hips and arse, the softness that remained coating his stomach no matter how hard Louis tried to get rid of it, until he reached Louis’ nipples. Harry barely brushed his fingers along their pointed tips before taking a step back.

Staring at Louis, Harry took a deep breath in order to reign himself in. He wanted Louis so badly that it ached sometimes, that it literally hurt his heart with how full it felt just from being able to witness such a beautiful human being. He loved him. He loved him a ridiculous amount. And he wanted to do filthy things to him.

The anticipation Louis felt just thinking of all the things Harry could do to him was tangible, and he suddenly became too aware of how loudly he was breathing through his nose. He was growing so horny it was beginning to hurt with each and every throb of lust that pulsed through him, but he forced himself to stand as still as he could while Harry circled him slowly.

Finally, Harry enfolded his neck with the long piece of leather, and when Louis felt long fingers securing it and fastening it along his Adam’s apple, his breathing actually stopped for a moment. It felt so good, so _right_ , that he almost wanted to fall to his knees and kneel right there.

Harry took a step back to admire Louis much as he’d done to the tree they’d so long ago decorated together, his plump bottom lip dropped open in awe.

“You look gorgeous.”

The weight of the collar (both literally and figuratively) was at the forefront of Louis’ mind, and it was all he could focus on. The collar. Harry. The fact that he was Harry’s. Harry had given him a collar. Harry had just put a collar on his neck.

“Does it feel too tight?” Harry asked lowly. He lifted Louis’ chin with his index finger and added his thumb to hold it in place.

Louis didn’t even realize he’d bowed his head, and with Harry’s fingers still on his face, Louis shook his head and soon felt Harry’s soft lips briefly meet his own. Harry hadn’t been able to properly mark Louis’ neck earlier (he wasn’t really supposed to do that anymore, anyway), so the collar took the place of the bites Louis normally adorned. Harry almost wished Louis could wear it all the time, underneath his clothing or something. He just looked so damn delicate.

“Swallow,” Harry directed to Louis, and when he was satisfied that Louis could breathe comfortably, he said, “Good,” and walked to procure the tinsel once more.

“Hands behind your back, please,” Harry ordered next. “Wrists together.”

Upon being in such a submissive position, Louis felt another burning wave throughout his groin. Feeling like prey about to be eaten by a starving predator, Louis’ dick had consistently been yearning for Harry’s earlier touch, but now the feeling was intensified. Louis ached in the way that one would expect to when having their dick practically ignored and at being physically forced not to touch it; however, Louis was resigned to the sensation. His needs could wait. He inadvertently dropped his head once more.

Louis gasped as Harry wrapped the prickly string around his wrists, went to work at swooping it around, and then forcefully tugged. This time it felt tight, much tighter than the warm and perfect fit of the collar, but somehow it still felt good.

“Now pull,” Harry ordered, “like you’re trying to move your arms to the front.”

Though he tried, Louis failed to escape his binds. He had no control of his hands anymore. He couldn’t even move his arms, really, besides the useless bending of his elbows. He was at Harry’s mercy.

The thought briefly swam through Louis’ mind that though they’d never done this before and though Harry was shit at tying knots, Harry sure knew exactly what to do, like he’d studied up on it. Louis didn’t have it in him at all to make a joke at this (even if it would perhaps earn him a glorious slap on the arse) because all he could focus on was not embarrassingly turning around and humping Harry’s leg.

“It might be a bit uncomfortable,” Harry said, gloating internally at Louis’ unsuccessful struggle, “but I want you to be good and not complain.”

“I won’t complain,” Louis promised.

“I know you won’t,” Harry gently replied. A thought ran through Harry’s mind. He wondered if he should act on it...

From Louis’ side, Harry trailed his finger across the front of Louis’ collar, then back up to lift his chin once more. “Daddy’s good boy, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Louis replied happily.

Harry switched his voice. “If it gets too uncomfortable, though, I’ve got scissors right behind you. Say the word, and in one second I’ll free you.”

Louis nodded and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in through his nose.

Harry remained at Louis’ side, staring at him. He noticed Louis’ cheeks were flushed. “What’s going on in that little head of yours?” he finally asked.

Louis didn’t answer right away, so Harry egged on, leaning in closer and whispering into Louis’ ear, “Thinking about all the things I’m gonna do to you?”

Louis opened his heavy eyes and dropped his head again, looking down. It was almost _weird_ how hard his dick was, how obscene it looked sticking straight out in front of him…

“I’m gonna open you up for my cock and then stuff you full of it,” Harry said deeply, again not waiting for Louis’ reply. “Again and again. And then I’ll fill you up with my cum, have you so full it’ll seep out and turn your arse all sticky. Make you even prettier than you already are.”

 _Do it now_ , Louis wanted to beg. _Fuck me and ruin me and fill me up as much as you want and then do it all over again,_ his thoughts raced. Louis wanted Harry’s cum everywhere. Wanted it where Harry had promised—inside his arse—but also wanted it covering his skin, filling his mouth, _everywhere_.

“Don’t,” Harry said, tapping Louis’ cheek.

Louis knew what Harry was referring to and promptly released his lip he’d accidentally bitten into his mouth, preparing to apologize. What actually came out was, “Please, can I suck you?”

Harry stepped to Louis’ front. On a slow inhale, he lowered his head until his lips brushed over Louis’ ever so faintly. In the silence of the room, Louis’ breathing sounded loud, the little feathery puffs of air almost making Harry’s own lips quiver.

“Look at me,” Harry said. Right away, Louis’ eyes—eyes so lidded they looked like he’d just finished smoking—lifted and met Harry’s piercing ones, and Harry wrapped a firm hand around the back of Louis’ neck. “That what you want?”

Louis nodded. “So bad,” he added for good measure, but Harry was already stepping back and disrobing, his broad shoulders twisting as he ridded himself of his jumper.

Louis fell hard to his knees in one ungraceful, off-balanced movement and stared directly ahead, waiting for Harry to rid himself of the rest of his clothes. From looking through the little open slant in the fly of Harry’s pajamas, Louis just noticed that Harry wasn’t wearing any pants, and he couldn’t help himself from pivoting his torso forward and licking the exposed skin of Harry’s cock.

Harry didn’t seem to share Louis’ eagerness, though, and he just pushed Louis’ head back and murmured, “Wait for it.”

Louis just licked his lips, almost salivating for the taste of Harry, overcome by some oral fixation and probing need to have Harry in his mouth, to suck him _._

After delaying by running his hands along his own chest and down his torso, playing with the waistband of his pajamas, pushing the fabric down just enough to show Louis a dark, curly patch of hair only, Harry _finally_ pushed the material all the way down his legs and slowly stepped out of it.

And, okay, it was no secret that Harry’s cock was huge. Everyone knew this. His preference of jeans never did much to hide the fact; he’d choose particular trousers just to _accentuate_ it in exactly the same fashion Louis always did for his arse. Louis was obviously very much acquainted with this particular body part of Harry’s, also. Knew exactly how it looked when Harry casually walked around the house naked, knew how it looked at each and every stage of Harry’s arousal from slightly-stimulated to I-need-to-fuck-you-now, knew how it looked just after Harry came. But still, it always took Louis by surprise somehow at how _large_ Harry was. The way his cock sprung, the way it just _flopped_ out of his pajamas and fell forward like it took up the whole room, made Louis gasp and stupidly stare.

After looking upwards for permission, Louis leaned forward once more and lazily licked circles around the tip of Harry’s cock. He put a tiny bit in his mouth and sucked before backing away again and trailing wet paths all along the sides. He had no real aim, only to have as much of Harry _near_ or _on_ or _in_ his mouth as possible.

Harry watched Louis intently. Watching Louis suck his dick—or just toy with it like he was doing now—was one of the most erotic things for Harry, mainly because Louis was so gorgeous when he did it. Harry always enjoyed seeing the way Louis’ cheekbones hardened when Louis hollowed out his mouth, the way Louis’ mouth got all slippery and wet within just a few seconds of it. Mostly, he loved how much _Louis_ loved it.

“Shit,” Harry hissed when Louis gave one final, wet lick to his length and then engulfed half of it in his mouth without warning. The feeling alone was one thing for Harry, but again, the sight of Louis was what really did it for him. Louis….on his knees with his _hands tied behind his back_ and _wearing a collar_ … The image sent a renewed burning all throughout Harry’s body, and Harry shamelessly began rutting forward.

Once Louis’ mouth was full, Harry held onto Louis’ hair to hold him in place. Already, Louis’ cheekbones were sharp as he began sucking Harry in waves, like he was coaxing Harry’s orgasm out from him slowly, and Harry gently pulled on Louis’ hair.

“You really have no idea how good you look right now,” Harry murmured, thrusting in and out slowly as if he were teasing his own self, and Louis hummed in happiness. “So good, baby.”

Harry moved faster, fucking Louis’ mouth though Louis was still trying his hardest to bob his head, as well. “You’re so good,” Harry said. Though Louis could obviously hear his words, Harry said it more to himself, wondering for the thousandth time in his life how what was happening was _real_. “Doing so good…Look so good…”

Thrusting steadily, Harry kept repeating that phrase—“ _So good, so good_ ”—and he watched his dick, slippery with spit as it met the cool air of the room, slide back inside the wet heat of Louis’ mouth rhythmically, hypnotically. Everything quickly became sloppy—Harry’s movements and Louis’ slurping—but Louis didn’t pause once to swallow, instead letting drool slide from the corners of his mouth and messily fall down his chin.

When Louis’ mostly-black eyes looked upwards, Harry felt his chest rumble, and his stomach tightened far too quickly. He forced his hips to stutter to a stop, and he pulled out of Louis’ mouth audibly, a look of forced control on his face.

“Please,” Louis begged sadly once the suction from his mouth was broken. “Please, Harry. Please.”

When Louis opened his mouth and looked up with begging eyes, his tongue sticking out like a welcoming landing strip for Harry, Harry couldn’t help but take ahold of his thick cock. Twisting it in a way that came second-nature to him, he steadily increased the speed of his movements until he began groaning. He wouldn’t ruin anything by coming so soon, he told himself. Getting hard again after this would be no problem at all _._

Seemingly unhappy with Harry not coming within two seconds of stroking himself, Louis shuffled forward on his knees and stuck his head underneath Harry’s dick, easily filling his mouth with one of Harry’s balls and obscenely licking in any way he could. They were tight. Harry was going to come soon. Louis began to suck again.

“Louis, Jesus Christ,” Harry grunted. Suddenly, he tapped on Louis’ head, and Louis’ eyes got wide as he moved back and again stuck out his tongue, this time as close to Harry’s moving hand as he could.

When warm spurts of Harry’s cum hit the back of his mouth, Louis was too busy staring at Harry’s face to swallow. Louis kept his mouth as widely-opened as possible until Harry’s tense face finally relaxed and his shoulders slumped, and it was then that he finally—gladly—let Harry’s relatively-flavorless release run down his throat.

Almost straight-away, Harry dropped to his knees in front of Louis and tilted his own head. Leaning in, he kissed Louis adoringly, running his hands up and down Louis’ arms. With his cherry red lips affectionately sliding along Louis’ pink rose-petal ones, Harry massaged Louis’ arms a bit. His muscles had to’ve been a bit sore—both in his arms and elsewhere in his body—but he didn’t complain. On the contrary, he looked happy.

Louis was doing so well. Harry shakily whispered this praise into his mouth. _Perfect. I love you._

An actual being of sunshine, Louis just beamed in response, and if there were a way to get the image forever tattooed on the inside of his eyelids, Harry would ring his tattoo artist at that fucking moment to have it done.

He needed to compose himself. For Louis’ sake.

After wrapping his arms around Louis and tightly hugging a few times in succession, Harry finally gave Louis some mercy and brushed his fingers along Louis’ erection.

“Does it terribly hurt?” Harry innocently asked.

Louis’ hooded eyes obediently met Harry’s. He resisted the urge to bite his lip and nodded as his cock twitched in response to Harry’s teasing touch.

“Should I—“ Harry paused to swipe his thumb along the slit at the tip of Louis’ dick—“take the edge off?”

Without waiting for an answer, however, Harry already wrapped his hand around Louis’ entire length, tugging much as he’d done to his own just moments ago, but slower.

“Or would you rather come untouched?” Harry asked, still stroking.

“I-It’s whatever you want,” Louis answered. He loved it any way he could get it. Harry knew that. Harry also knew that Louis was way past the point of making decisions, as well.

Harry smiled. “So sweet,” he whispered.

“Whatever you want to do’ll make me happy,” Louis muttered quietly.

Louis missed the way Harry slightly shook his head in disbelief, missed how his hand stuttered for just a second before regaining speed again. “I know, baby.” Pumping continuously yet still softly, Harry told Louis, “Think I’m gonna make you come like this first. Sit down for me.”

Louis’ bottom dropped to the carpet, freeing his knees from supporting the weight of his body. His thighs now touched his calves, and the heels of his feet touched his arse. If he wanted to reach out, he could get his fingers to touch the rug beneath him, but he kept them clasped together while Harry stretched his own body to the side and reached for the bottle of lube.

Now sat on his arse similarly to how Louis was, Harry drizzled lube onto Louis’ dick and began spreading it around with both hands to thoroughly slick it up.

Just like Harry imagined it in his mind, the Christmas tree lights (and the distant flickers from the fire) were turning Louis’ already-beautiful body into something transcendently glowy. From his heavy lashes down to his defined collarbones and down even further to his smooth and hairless lower-body, Louis radiated perfection. Even the wetness coating Louis’ _dick_ shined brightly in the dim room. It was positively stunning.

“You’ve got the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen, Louis,” Harry acclaimed while his fingers finally wrapped themselves around Louis’ shaft again. His free hand reached up and held onto the back of Louis’ neck, atop the weighty leather there.

Louis’ heart pounded throughout his entire body, reacting both to Harry’s words and his touch. Cocks weren’t supposed to be pretty. The very term suggested something more crudely rugged, something harsher. But Louis ate up the praise like being called pretty was the best thing he’d ever heard in his life, and he was just _so happy_. Despite his heart beating out of his chest, Harry’s hand on his collar was having a hugely sedative effect on him, and his eyes dopily drooped.

When Harry finally began moving his hand up and down Louis’ _pretty cock_ again, “ _Harry_ ,” was all Louis got out.

Harry’s hand began moving steadier, up and down and then up and down again, winding a bit at the tip before pushing all the way down to the base only to resume the movement. Again and again. Faster.

Still on his own knees, Harry was so close to Louis that he felt Louis’ hot breath warming his skin. Panting. Louis felt ten billion nerve cells ignite all at once, and he didn’t understand how Harry even heard him when he whimpered in one long question, “CanIcome?”

Harry’s moving hand squeezed even harder. “Yeah.”

Through saggy eyes, Louis looked down at Harry’s hand, looked at his own cock being stroked and petted and skillfully beckoned to come. _God_ , Louis was so stiff, there was hardly any give there, and he swore he could feel cum filling his cock and building up underneath Harry’s hand, and was that even _how it worked_ , he didn’t even know. He just knew that was how it felt, filling up and filling up some more, that whatever was happening, he was feeling stuffed and bursting, and it kept growing larger and larger inside of him and it was going to overflow and— _God_.

With his mouth in a perfect “o,” Louis came quietly. Delicately. Like it was sacred. The only movement he made was a rather severe jump as he spilled out onto the back of Harry’s hand, but his bottom quickly slumped back to the carpet again once the sensation tapered off. Harry’s hand on his neck kept him secure.

He remembered raggedly saying “Thank you,” but he also remembered Harry praising him again for doing a good job. Harry had done all the work, and Harry deserved the praise, so Louis just kept repeatedly expressing his thanks. Harry gave Louis everything. Harry was everything.

Without removing his hand from Louis’ cock, Harry quietened Louis in a series of soft “shhhs,” beginning his stroking again while saying, “One more time for me now, show me how pretty you can be again, baby.”

Though still insistent, Harry was just as soft with the pressure this time around. Louis always came so hard whenever he was already over-sensitive, and Harry halfway wished he’d had the foresight to record these moments for future viewing because he could already tell Louis was on the edge of losing it again.

Behind his back, Louis dug his fingers into his palms almost painfully in order to deal with the mounting tightness already rebuilding in his belly, and he squeezed his eyes just as forcefully while trying to hold in his whimpers.

Harry spoke to Louis in little murmurs, the quietest and deepest sounds. “You’ve been so quiet, love,” Harry whispered. “Let me hear you this time.”

Immediately, the moans began. Soft and pretty and filthy all at the same time, Louis’ sounds made Harry’s hand pick up speed.

“Harry, _Harry_ , Harry,” Louis kept breathlessly saying, whining, until again his mouth dropped wider and he whimpered with his second impending orgasm. “It’s— _ahh_.” Louis’ hips and thighs began to rut upwards.

“Come on, sweetie, come on,” Harry said. His voice was stern yet coated in sugar.

Louis’ voice turned straggled and raspy when he loudly sobbed, _“Oh, my God,”_ and began shaking, strips of cum expelling from his cock once more.

Harry could feel Louis get somewhat softer as more of Louis’ release coated the back of his hand. Some had even fell onto Harry’s own skin, somewhere on his thigh, but he wasn’t concerned with that, only with holding Louis as tightly as he could.

Harry let go of Louis’ cock and moved behind Louis to match his chest with Louis’ back—or rather, his back _side_ , since Louis’ arms were restrained there and blocked much else. Nevertheless, Harry wrapped his arms around Louis’ body and held him firmly, and within moments, the little noises Louis was making dissipated into just heavy breathing. When those breaths finally calmed a bit, Harry lifted the back of his right hand to Louis’ mouth, and Louis licked it clean without even being asked.

Kissing the exposed areas of Louis’ neck around his collar, Harry asked, “That feel good?”

Louis’ reply was shaky. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Harry trailed a finger down Louis’ back, between his sharp shoulder blades, behind the tinsel and Louis’ entwined hands, until it reached his arse crack. “Ready for more?”

Louis felt unexplainably fuzzy. Sleepy yet _alive_ , he pushed his arse back on Harry’s finger while murmuring “Mhm,” quietly.

Harry removed his hand and backed away from the absorbing heat of Louis’ body. He gave no orders, just put his hands on Louis’ body and maneuvered him as he willed. Pushing down on Louis’ back and head, he coaxed Louis to slant his upper-body downwards, and then he man-handled Louis some more until Louis’ hips and arse were high up in the air.

Still on his knees, Louis’ face rested against the carpet now and his arms burned as they stretched steadily upwards along the rising angle of his back. He could all-but feel Harry’s eyes already trained on his hole from his position behind him, so he wiggled his arse prettily for him. The movement was cut-off, however, from the unrelenting itching roughness of the fabric underneath his knees.

Louis squirmed, and Harry watched lustfully at his impatience—after already coming _twice_ —until he actually noticed Louis’ face. Though Louis’ cheek was resting on the carpet, hiding almost half of his face, Harry could tell he still looked pained. And not in the good way.

“Something’s wrong,” Harry said quickly, eyes immediately darting up to Louis’ wrists. “Babe, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Just -- hurts,” Louis groaned quietly, hips still shifting oddly side-to-side.

“I’ll get the scissors right now,” Harry answered right away.

“ _No_ , don’t,” Louis said higher, louder. “Please.” That was the last thing he wanted. “Just—my knees—”

Harry looked to Louis’ knees and silently cursed himself while, at the same time, darting to the sofa. After pulling down the throw from the back there, Harry situated the small blanket under Louis’ knees and bent down to kiss Louis’ shoulder in apology.

“Better?”

Louis sighed in happiness. “Much.”

“All right, baby, I’m gonna open you up now,” Harry said in that low bedroom voice of his while drizzling more lube messily across two of his fingers. “Can you widen your legs for me just a little—yeah, like that. Good.”

Harry gave a little kiss to Louis’ arsecheek at the same time he pressed a fingertip inside, and when he slid further in, he felt Louis’s hole flutter a little bit around his knuckles, squeezing from the intrusion. So slowly it was almost ridiculous, Harry moved his finger in and out, just watching the way it made the Louis’ pink rim move and stretch, listening to the nice noises it brought out of Louis.

Harry noticed Louis’ fingertips twitching where they rested together atop his tailbone, so Harry placed a kiss to Louis’ hands, as well, right before adding another finger in with the first.

Louis’ body jerked. He felt as if his entire body were on fire, burning from staying so still. Muscles tight and achy. “ _Mmm_.”

Louis was being quieter than usual tonight. Harry hoped it was a good sign. He just wanted to make everything the best for Louis, wanted all of Louis’ pent-up tension within his body to build up before gloriously igniting in a way that would clear Louis’ mind. He wanted to make all thoughts and worries truly leave him, at least for the night.

“Still feel good?” Harry asked, still moving his hand slowly away from Louis and then slowly back inside. Louis’ next moan confirmed this, and, trying to reinforce Louis’ noises, Harry whispered, “You sound so pretty, Lou.”

Harry scissored his fingers then, charmed again by how Louis’ skin looked so radiant under the soft glow of the tree lights.

Finally, Harry stopped moving his fingers around so much and pushed them in as far as they’d go, sneaking in a third as he did so. He just barely moved his fingertips until he found what he was searching for, and once he felt the undeniable firmness of Louis’ prostate, he focused solely on stroking it. Rubbing it steadily, Harry swallowed hard at the look of pleasure on Louis’ face and found himself making little soothing, shushing noises in reply to Louis’ tiny whimpers.

“Right there,” Louis whined. “Fuck, _right there_.”

 _There’s_ what Harry liked to hear. He began moving his fingertips more confidently, continuously, and Louis made a strangled sound before a few swear-words left his mouth. Harry shifted a bit to the side, kept his never-stopping fingers buried deep inside Louis, and caressed what he could of Louis’ back with his free hand.

“Yeah, know you like that,” Harry whispered soothingly, smiling to himself at Louis’ prettiness. “Breathe, baby.”

 _Like_ probably didn’t cover it for Louis, but still, he nodded his head vigorously, silently telling Harry not to stop. Arching his back at an even sharper angle, Louis lifted his arse up high and pushed back on Harry’s wide fingers. Fingers that felt like they would break him. Fingers that he never wanted to leave him.

Louis started to fuck himself on Harry’s hand then, at least to the best of his ability, and he groaned with the struggle of each and every movement he made. Mouth open wide and drooling on the carpet, Louis finally raised his eyes to seek out Harry’s face. Everything else was blurry except for Harry’s eyes. Normally they’d be dark, but now they were so clear—as green as the tree to his side—and they stared at Louis fixedly, telling him to take what he wanted. So Louis moved quicker.

“Shit, baby,” Harry breathed, sucking in a deep breath.

Louis tried to swallow, but his mouth wanted to stay agape. Already this was too much. Harry’s fingers could just get so _deep_ in this position, and Louis let his heavy eyes fall to Harry’s lap. He imagined the blazing pleasure he’d feel from Harry’s cock inside him, how it would pierce him and assault him with never-ending _fullness,_ and suddenly it was all Louis wanted in the entire world. He could come like this, he knew he could, but he’d been good. He’d been good, and he wanted more.

“I want you,” Louis slurred. He didn’t know if Harry planned on making him come from just his fingers first, but he didn’t care. He wanted Harry’s cock. He needed it. He begged in a higher voice, again imploring, “I want you…”

Harry didn’t answer Louis. He was captivated to the point of silent gaping from the indecent sounds coming from Louis’ arse—arse so tight that it was literally squelching from the mixture of lube and full pressure from Harry’s probing fingers. All Harry was focused on was meeting Louis halfway whenever Louis’ hips raised ever higher, dying to see Louis come again, dying to see and feel his pink rim squeeze and pulse around his fingers.

“Please, please,” Louis still begged, hips still moving jerkily. “I’ve been _good_.”

“Baby—darling, you’re doing so well,” Harry replied hypnotically, his voice soft as snow. “Keep going.”

Louis’ muscles burned, his eyes burned, everything _burned_. He wanted to come so badly. He knew he’d just come twice, but Harry being _inside_ him was a different type of sensation. Having Harry inside his arse made him feel like he was riding an undiscovered frequency of sheer bliss. The force on his prostate was fucking unreal, and his fingers uselessly twitched from their station behind his back, impatient and needy as his whole body screamed out for more, more, more. Without thinking, he widened his legs and let his hips drop a bit, finding it easier to hinge at the knees and push back on what Harry was offering that way.

His dripping cock touched the carpet at the new position, and Louis lurched a bit at the rough sensation. Dick throbbing now and arse so open he could vaguely hear its noises over his own moaning, Louis needed to _come_. He started to babble, subconsciously pulling his wrists against the tight strings there to try and move better.

Suddenly, Louis was empty, yet his hips still rocked, not realizing Harry had pulled out his fingers. In the span of two seconds, Harry moved behind Louis, grabbed and lifted and stilled Louis’ hips with both hands, and pressed inside Louis’ arse easily. Normally Harry’d have to hold onto his own cock to guide it inside Louis somewhat, to push against the resistant there, but Louis was so fucking _open_ , so _ready_ for him, that Harry immediately shoved in his entire length and kept it there.

“Oohmm,” Louis moaned. He lifted his head for a second or two before it uselessly fell back to the rug.

Harry _felt_ Louis’ thighs shake before he saw them with his eyes, and as he looked down, he thought for the second time that night that the image before him was the hottest thing he’d ever seen in his life: Harry’s own cock spearing Louis right down the middle of Louis’ perfect, full arse, Louis’ hands wrapped up and restrained with tinsel, Louis’ neck _collared_ , curvy thighs positively trembling in wait for Harry to move.

Though shaking, Louis somehow seemed calmer, less frantic than a second before. Harry’s fingertips, some of them now slimy and wet from being inside Louis so long, pressed into Louis’ hips in what was meant to be a relaxing gesture, but Harry couldn’t deny that he wanted to leave bruises there, too.

“You’re perfect,” Harry breathed. Louis’ reply was just Harry’s name followed by a shameless moan, or maybe Harry’s name _was_ the shameless moan, but he just wanted Harry to move.

And Harry wasn’t.

“Fuck me, please, Harry, please, just fuck me, please,” Louis chanted, his voice muffled by a face-full of carpet, and in the next instant, Harry let out an enthusiastic growl at the same time his hips began a steady and fast rhythm.

Fucking was what Louis asked for, and fucking was what Harry delivered. Harry was unrelenting with his movements right from the start, most definitely leaving bruises this time on Louis’ hips as he squeezed there, pulling Louis onto his cock as he repeatedly thrusted forward as deeply into Louis’ arse as he could.

“Fuck, Louis,” Harry groaned. “Baby, _oh fuck_.”

Louis was open and perfect, yet he kept instinctively clenching whenever Harry drove inwards, causing Harry to incessantly grunt. Louis—joyfully—had finally begun getting genuinely loud with it, as well, and the two of them together sounded so fucking beautiful it was unreal.

The room was growing hotter, smelling of Christmas and spilt rum and sweat and sex, and Harry’s hair was annoyingly falling into his own face from the odd angle he was perched at, so-

Harry’s hands, secure on Louis’ hips, moved to Louis’ delicate, bound wrists and _yanked_. Straight away, Louis’ head and upper body were forced a foot off the floor from the tugging, and he made a noise like, “ _Arghunh_ ,” and then something higher and more shrill as he quickly discovered that, though sort of painful, this was a perfect angle for Harry to hit his prostate.

Though he was pressed tightly to Louis’ arse, Harry found his body could move better this way and chase the deepness he craved. The movements, short and deep now, were _loud_. Louis’ arse clapped against Harry’s pelvis with every fast, harsh drive Harry made forward, Harry’s balls swinging and touching _Louis’_ balls, and _fuck_ —just fuck.

Through his hands gripping Louis’ wrists, Harry stared at the spot of their joining. “Holy shit.”

The burning in Louis’ shoulder blades and arms buzzed through his body as Harry kept pounding into his arse,  and there was almost nothing comfortable about the ache, but still, it was _comforting_ —comforting in the fact that Harry had complete control of everything, from Louis’ physical, bodily position to his bodily functions. Whether or not he could come. And suddenly, the need to come completely consumed Louis.

“Come,” was all Louis could get out, though he knew the response (or lack thereof) before it even came. Still, Louis pleaded again, using every bit of energy just to formulate the words—“Please let me _come_ , Harry, _please_ ”—and again—“ _Please_ ”—with Harry ignoring him each and every time, still driving deeply inside.

With how strong all the different sensations were hitting him, Louis felt like his body was being ripped and pulled in a million different directions. His arm sockets hurt and his abs were clenched and his arse was full, but the pain had already turned into pleasure long ago. Harry’s cock kept hitting his prostate, jabbing it in assault again and again, and the pleasure grew stronger still. Louis was going to die from how powerful it was.

“I’m about to— _Harry, I’m about to!_ ” Louis warned urgently.

“Stop yourself,” Harry said louder.

Louis widened his eyes and stared down at the rug, his muscles burning and eyes bulging out as he made a series of unearthly noises in order to divert his mind’s attention on something— _anything_ —besides his impending orgasm. But that was the thing: he couldn’t think. His vision singled onto a single spot on the carpet, whiting out.

Harry dropped Louis’ wrists then--in actuality, he'd only been holding them for about thirty seconds--and watched as Louis’ upper body fell to the floor again, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough for Louis to feel it. Shifting, Harry leaned forward and put a hand in Louis’ slightly damp hair, fisting a handful of it and pushing Louis’ face into the carpet. His other hand held onto Louis’ hip for leverage, and then he genuinely let go. Snapping his hips erratically and screwing his eyes shut, Harry literally fucked Louis so hard Louis’ legs gave out and fell to the carpet. Now laying horizontally on top of Louis, Harry kept moving with his eyes closed, lost in the slippery feeling of Louis underneath him and the sounds he was calling out.

Louis heaved in his breaths, and Harry stole them right back as they panted in each other’s faces. The tone and pitch of Louis’ crying of “Harry—Harry— _Harry_ —“ told Harry that Louis was close, so Harry pushed himself up a bit just so he could open his eyes and look in between their bodies, at the furious motions of his torso, at Louis’ arse jiggling, at his own wet cock moving in and out.

Louis messily ruined the carpet underneath him with another strangled yell of Harry’s name, and Harry yelled right back as he finally stopped moving and deposited every fluid inside of him now into Louis.

Harry was delirious for a few seconds, and his movements were slow and heavy as he pulled out of Louis’ body and cut the tinsel from his wrists.

Louis immediately rolled over onto his back and sprawled out his limbs as if making a snow angel. He almost looked asleep. Fondly, Harry looked at him, saying “I fucking love you” before collapsing to his side.

As he cuddled Louis, Harry massaged every bit of Louis’ skin he could reach. His own body was beginning to hurt, too. He believed that whatever he’d just done, he’d probably blown out his back. But it was worth it.

When their chests stopped moving so rapidly, when their heartbeats settled, and when they could finally open their eyes again, Harry kissed Louis’ collar and asked, “Does your throat hurt, babe?”

Louis shook his head dopily as he slurred his words. “Collar doesn’t hurt. Told you, I like it.”

Harry smiled self-indulgently. “No, I mean from all that screaming you just did.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The month of December. Work kicks off full-forced, and Harry and Louis make a serious decision about their future. Niall anxiously awaits sexy time with the lads but doesn't completely realize what he's gotten himself into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is...the ending at last! Enjoy, enjoy. 
> 
> Tags That Apply:  
> Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Rimming, Ass Play, Mild Feminization, Exhibitionism, Voyuerism, OT5, Orgasm Denial, Multiple Orgasms, and I hate the stupid word but also Bukkake.

 

Cutely blinking in the light of the morning, Louis woke up to the smell of pancakes. He entered the kitchen wearing only a pair of boxers and his collar, and Harry thought for the millionth time in his life that Louis was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen—puffy eyes, a smudge of tree sap on his cheek, bruised hips, and hair sticking out in all directions.

Louis gingerly walked to the stove to drink from the hot cup of tea already waiting for him there (Harry had known the smell of food would wake him up). Louis peered to his side where Harry was busy mixing batter, and with his voice scratchy with sleep, asked, “When’d you buy a pancake-maker?”

“We’ve had it for ages,” Harry replied with a shrug. “How many d’you want?”

Cupping both hands around his mug, Louis walked back to the stairs and answered absentmindedly, “I don’t know. A lot. I’ll be back down after I shower.”

“Well, hey,” Harry called after him, “don’t forget to put your collar in my drawer first. I don’t want it getting wet.”

Louis sighed and trudged upstairs, walking funnily into the bathroom to clean up. He had a sore body to quickly wash; ahead of him was a hectic afternoon.

* * *

 

“Zayn,” Liam urged, shaking his boyfriend’s shoulder roughly. “ _Zayn_.”

“Stoppit,” protested Zayn, fighting his way out of Liam’s grip. He grabbed a pillow and huffily put it over his ear as he roughly turned over on his side. Liam’s voice was loud and insistent, and Zayn’s alarm clock was blaring at him again, growing progressively more severe with every additional second he ignored it. There were too many noises. Zayn groaned.

“You should’ve been up a half-hour ago,” Liam said in that friendly yet chiding way of his, easily lifting the pillow off of Zayn’s head and simultaneously pulling down the covers.

Zayn instinctually curled himself into the fetal position to fight the sudden coldness he felt. “ _Arggh_ , Liam, you are so annoying sometimes.”

“C’mon, babe,” Liam said, standing on the bed and starting to jump. “You can sleep on the plane. Time to get up.”

Zayn made a strange, grumbly sound in the back of his throat. “I hate you.”

 

* * *

 

 

So the early days of December busily blurred by. Already, the band were constantly busy. In Sweden and Holland at the beginning of the week only to land in Greece right afterwards, the lads’ lives became a whirlwind of different sceneries and accents, and it would’ve been hard to keep up with if it weren’t for Niall’s habit of journaling their daily whereabouts and activities. 

However disorientating, it truly was exhilarating to be travelling again. There was an unexplainable energy that all the boys got from being together, like they fed on each other’s laughter and child-like wonder at being able to call what they did a _job_ , and it was easy and natural to fall back in the swing of things again.

Louis almost felt stupid for griping to Zayn a few days ago. Yes, he and Harry were already being pressured to separate while working, and _yes_ , their personal alone-time was beginning to dwindle—but it was fine. Like Zayn had told Louis—this happened every year, it was nothing new, Louis and Harry would deal with it confidently and professionally, thank you, and it was _fine_.

Despite how _fine_ it was, Louis was happy to arrive back to the familiar cold winds of London at the week’s end.  Even though he wouldn’t find any true relaxation in England because of the band’s jam-packed schedule, he’d missed his bed (and missed sleeping in it next to Harry even more), and it was there he stayed until being gently roused by large hands the following morning. There was an awards show they would be performing at that evening, and morning rehearsals were scheduled.

Of course, once they got to the venue, there were more technical difficulties than anything else—( _“Great,”_ Zayn muttered while rubbing his tired eyes)—so while things were getting figured out, all the lads goofed off to pass the time—everyone except Harry, who was currently off to the side of the room, sat in a chair and shuffling through small little papers.

“Don’t you look important,” Louis noted as he approached Harry some time later, a bit out-of-breath from a game of hide-and-seek that had somehow morphed into hide-and-seek-and-ambush-Liam. “Whatcha looking at?”

“Lyrics,” Harry answered without looking up.

Louis moved closer to try to see what Harry was talking about, but Harry had already folded the papers, preparing to pocket them. A corner of one page was still in view, however, and Louis recognized the horrendous and scratchy handwriting as his own.

Louis had been writing stuff with Liam, and though he couldn’t tell what song was in Harry’s hand (or now, his pocket), he jumped to the only logical conclusion there was. He bounced on the balls of his feet. “So Liam showed you our stuff, then?”

Harry just nodded tightly. Bringing a closed fist to his mouth like he was coughing, he cleared his throat.

“…What?” Louis asked slowly, his excitement quickly dwindling.

Harry just looked angry.

“What?” Louis repeated. “You’ve known I’ve been writing with him, babe, I don’t see why—”

Harry abruptly stood up. As he interrupted Louis, his voice was strained. “Come on, let’s go.”

“What is it?” Louis asked in building confusion, watching Harry begin to walk away. “Where are you going?”

This time, Harry walked back to Louis, grabbed his elbow, and yanked Louis with him as he headed for the nearest exit, a door to the side of the stage. “Just come on.”

As Harry pulled Louis out of the door, Louis tried to object, but he was suddenly moving so fast that every protest got caught in his throat. Door after door and corner after corner they passed, like Harry was trying to escape from something. Louis’ Vans slid against the floor as he struggled to keep up with the fast pace at which Harry pulled him.

“Care to tell me—“ Louis asked just as he was dragged around yet another corner, “ _oof_ —Jesus fucking _shit_ , Harry, just pull me _arm off,_ why don’t you—where we’re going?”

“Here,” Harry replied as he audibly pushed Louis’ body against a wall. Applying rough pressure to Louis’ hips with his own in order to keep the smaller boy in place, Harry dropped his forehead onto Louis’ and just roughly breathed into his face.

More than just slightly out-of-breath now, Louis lifted his hands to finger the lapels of Harry’s shirt. He could clearly feel a hard, insistent press against his lower belly.

“Oh, _I_ know what song you were looking at now,” Louis breathed as he pulled at the fabric of Harry’s top, smirking while trying to get Harry to lower his face and kiss him. “Did you like the little drawings I did on there? Got you all worked up?”

Instead of answering, Harry ran a quick hand down Louis’ stomach directly to the apex of his thighs, and he easily found and began touching Louis’ soft cock with splayed-out fingers. As his fingers rubbed and stroked smooth trails all over the front of Louis’ jeans, Harry moaned right into Louis’ face, like he was the one receiving pleasure just from touching Louis there.

In response to Harry’s urgency, in response to where this was suddenly happening, in response to Harry _palming his entire package_ , Louis let his head fall back to the wall and bit his bottom lip.  He couldn’t help but laugh a little, and his belly jumped from chuckling.

“ _Harry_ ,” he said—half-moan, half-disbelieving-giggle still.

“Stop laughing.” Harry’s hand became firmer and wilder on top of Louis’ jeans, and Louis felt his cock beginning to swell inside. “And how many times do I have to tell you to take your fucking lip out of your mouth.”

“Oh, what is it with you and my bloody lip?” Louis groused.

Harry replied, honestly, brusquely, “It drives me mad. You look like a porn star.”

“Shouldn’t that be a good—“

“Stop talking.”

Harry’s sudden mood was easy for Louis to sense just from the change in his voice. The touching alone was obviously enough for Louis to get hard in response to, but Harry’s dark voice just accelerated the action. At the deep tenor from Harry, Louis involuntarily trilled, and then before he could say “okay,” or mime locking his lips, or even _nod_ , Harry’s free hand was on his neck and Harry’s mouth was finally on his own.

And—okay, then. Louis went lax against the wall, so much so that Harry was practically holding him up with one hand gloriously wrapped to his neck and one hand in between his legs. Blind-sighted as Louis was, _Christ_ , did it feel good to be overwhelmed like this.

“Can’t believe just a few words got you this worked up, Haz,” Louis spoke against Harrys’ lips. He tried for nonchalant and failed.

Still, it sounded teasing to Harry. “Shut up, Louis, you don’t even know what you fucking do to me.”

Harry wasn’t doing anything further, just kissing Louis and squeezing his dick still, and the stifling sensation was actually beginning to hurt Louis.

“Harry, it’s—take me somewhere else,” Louis asked in a rush. He wriggled his hips at the tight, uncomfortable sensation inside his jeans.

Harry took a slight step backwards so he was no longer touching Louis. He just stared at Louis and licked his lips almost like a possessed madman, his go-to look when he was this turned on.

At the abrupt glint in Harry’s eyes, Louis was quick to plead, “Oh, _no, please_ don’t—don’t get me like this and then just stop. Come on…”

Through his slight panting, Harry gave Louis a small smile. “You know I wouldn’t do that, Lou.”

Louis flicked his fringe out of his eyes. “You would and you have.”

Harry’s grin grew larger. “What do you want me to do, then?”

“Take me to an actual room, perhaps,” Louis hissed, “so we’re not in the middle of a fucking corridor.”

Harry ignored Louis’ statement as he quickly fell to his knees before Louis. “Talking too much, as usual. Let’s just take these off, shall we,” Harry muttered to himself as he began unbuttoning Louis’ jeans. “Free you up a bit. Looking rather tight in there.”

Louis looked back in the direction of where they had come, at the expanse of wall that ran a few meters before cornering off. Anybody could walk around that corner, and Louis and Harry wouldn’t have any real notice. They’d be caught.

Louis’ breathing grew heavier as Harry’s fingers deftly moved about on top of his jeans. “Can’t we— _ughn_ , Harry—really—can’t you find someplace else to do this? There are people that _work_ in this building—”

Despite his reluctance at the location, Louis still had his hips tilted forward in arousal, not trying to decline Harry’s ministrations at all. Once Harry had unzipped Louis’ trousers, Harry immediately shucked them down to mid-thigh, gentleness be damned. His mouth salivated at what he saw underneath.

“Anybody could walk out and see,” Louis was still whining half-heartedly. When he realized Harry was no longer touching him, Louis looked down at him to see what he’d paused for, and—

“God, you and these knickers,” whispered Harry, sparing a quick second to glance up at Louis before he pushed Louis’ legs apart and stuck his head underneath Louis’ panties, sucking large and painful marks onto the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. “Why’re you wearing these today?”

“They’re—they’re comfortable,” Louis answered weak and light, and it was definitely _not_ a whimper that came out of his mouth; that would make him appear out of control. He still had control. He told himself that he did, at least. He was still alternating between looking at what Harry was doing and sporadically peeking at both ends of the deserted hallway. There was still time to move somewhere. They could shuffle off to a water closet somewhere and _fuck_ even. Louis uselessly tapped Harry’s head.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s why you put them on this morning,” Harry uttered as he tilted his face upwards and began lapping at Louis’ soft balls. Fabric covered most of the skin there, but Harry licked everything he could reach. “ _The comfort_.”

Louis closed his eyes and sighed.

Remaining in that spot until he felt satisfied enough by Louis’ noises to move elsewhere, Harry’s face was smug as he moved on from the thoroughly-dampened fabric.

Using the thick, somehow-visible vein on the underside of Louis’ cock as a trail for him to follow, Harry licked and flicked his tongue all the way up to the tip. His breath was hot on Louis’ dick—or rather, on the cloth stuck to Louis’ dick. Pretty and white, Louis’ panties were plain cotton—boy-shorts—and Harry appeared hell-bent on sucking Louis off entirely from the outside of them.

Still, Louis wasn’t completely hard—was probably a little nervous despite his secret love of exhibitionism—so Harry covered as much cotton-covered dick as he could with his entire open mouth, moaning and sending vibrations all over Louis’ shaft.

As he began placing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to the progressively-wetter fabric covering Louis’ cockhead, Louis made a cut-off noise in the back of his throat. In response, Harry just used his free hand to press Louis’ hips more firmly against the wall.

“Why’d you really choose ‘em, Lou?”

Louis mumbled something and carted his fingers along Harry’s soft curls while desperately looking down to see his tongue. All he could see were Harry’s cheeky eyes as Harry looked upwards and spoke against Louis’ hard cock.

“I asked why you chose them,” Harry pressed.

“To…for…”

Succumbing to the pleasure, Louis’ head finally tilted back again and silently hit the wall.

“Hm?” Harry asked. He removed his mouth from Louis’ crotch.

“For _you_ , Harry,” Louis said almost impatiently while pushing his hips forward at the same time.

Harry looked pleased. “For me, baby?”

Louis shrugged just the slightest bit. “Thought you’d see them when I bent down or something,” he murmured.

“Oh, so you wanted to torment me, then.”

His head now lolled to the side, Louis pulled at Harry’s hair with both hands. He didn’t have an answer for Harry. He just wanted Harry’s mouth again.

Harry kept his face away from Louis’ package as he internally debated with whether or not to continue questioning him. Deciding there would be no time for the drawn-out teasing he wanted to do, he just smiled at Louis and finally turned his attention back to Louis’ cock. Delicately almost, Harry slipped his fingers under the sides of Louis’ panties and pulled them away from his groin, sliding them down, down, down, until they were widely stretched at the thickest part of Louis’ thighs.

Louis automatically felt the cool air hit his damp cock, and his jaw dropped with how good it felt. Harry made it all worse by blowing little tufts of air on the precum bubbling out from the tip of it. Each time he did so, Louis’ dick would twitch a little, would spasm to the side, and Louis whined.

“So hot,” Harry whispered. He stuck his tongue out and licked away all of the moisture beading the tip of Louis’ cock before backing away again. He couldn’t help himself: “Remember the first time you wore knickers for me, Louis?”

Louis nodded. Of course he remembered.

“Remember how I made you come? ‘Member what you called me?”

“Do-do we honestly have time for this right now?”

Harry looked up and widely smiled. “What’d you call me, baby?”

“ _Daddy_ ,” Louis admitted, looking to the side.

Harry kissed Louis’ dickhead again, teasing and without aim. “We had quite a good night, didn’t we?”

“We need to find a fucking closet,” Louis harshly whispered, pulling even more insistently at Harry’s curls.

“Shut up,” Harry shushed roughly up to Louis.

 _Harry’s. Fucking. Voice._ Louis just moaned, quite loudly.

“Shut _up_ ,” Harry ordered again. “Be quiet or I’ll gag you with your panties like I did before.”

Louis had to physically swallow the next noise that threatened to spill out and echo around them, because, yes, Harry was using his rough voice now, and Christ, did Louis’ legs turn to jelly when he talked like that.

It was all just too hot. What if someone saw them—Louis’ trousers to his knees and his _panties_ mid-thigh, dick visibly stiff in front of him. Harry on his knees about to suck him off. Despite the slight horror at the image, the thought alone made Louis moan out loud again.

“Shut up or I’ll fucking stop before I begin,” Harry warned once more. “You wanna be good and let me make you come or do you wanna keep being loud and have me stop?”

Apparently silence got him rewarded. Harry circled his lips, took Louis’ cock down his throat, and began sucking. Like, viciously. Louis had wanted to reply with something smart because it was really all his own doing that had gotten Harry to this state, but all he could do was tell his brain to tell his hips to stop trying to thrust forward all of a sudden. Everything just felt so _wet_ down there, and he couldn’t really tell what Harry’s mouth was even doing but, God, did it feel amazing, and unpredictable, and _hot_ —and shit, Louis was starting to thrust—and Harry’s finger snuck in behind Louis’ open legs to press firmly against his rim— _shit_ , he was starting to lose control of his legs and slide down the wall.

Louis’ mouth still made the movements like he was moaning—lips parting and falling obscenely open, quivering in the suddenly thick air—but he made sure no sounds came out, not even the noise from his shaky breathing.

He was tense. Louis held all his muscles still, tight and burning. His eyes were squeezed shut, and now instead of fearing someone would catch them doing this, he _imagined_ someone catching them. What if someone were peeking around the corner right now, right at this instant? What would they see on Louis’ face?

Harry felt and saw Louis’ muscular thighs begin to sporadically tighten and shake, and he knew Louis was close to gloriously spurting out into his mouth just like he wanted. Again, he slowed his movements and spoke around just the tip of Louis’ cock.

“Gonna come in my mouth, baby?”

Louis swallowed loudly, the loudest noise he’d made since being told to be absolutely silent. Harry began flicking the underside of his cock, and though it wasn’t the same as being completely surrounded by Harry’s mouth, Louis knew he would come just from that if only Harry would keep _doing it_ and stop moving around so much.

“Come down my throat,” Harry whispered, _beckoned_ with those deep red lips of his moving sinuously along Louis’ shaft now. “Give it all to me and let me swallow it.”

“Just,” Louis whispered, trying to be as quiet as can be, “just _suck_ it, Harry—please.”

He figured that would earn him some type of reprimand, but Harry just narrowed his eyes. “You want that?” he whispered back, like they were sharing secrets.

Now was not the time to fucking play. They needed to be quick. “ _Harry_ ,” Louis whined.

So Harry smiled and went to work with just as much fervor as before, bobbing his head rapidly. Wrapping his fingers around the base of Louis’ cock, Harry worked Louis both with hand and mouth now, and obscenely sloppy slurping sounds left his lips. Then he stopped moving so energetically and just _sucked_ , his tongue whirling and licking in the pressure-tunnel of his large mouth, and—

\--And Louis didn’t understand how his body even remained upright after that, for his hips pivoted forward as his knees buckled and his arse clenched. Harry’s finger wasn’t inside him, hadn’t gotten that far, but the force that Louis clamped his arse cheeks together sucked up Harry’s fingertip just the tiniest bit inside, dry and rough, and within that same instant, Louis was coming.

“F- _fuc_ k!”

The sound came out of Louis’ mouth far too loudly, entirely too high-pitched like always when he came, and it resonated down the hall. Louis’ eyes were squeezed shut as he felt tremor after tremor pass through him, and Harry just hollowed out his cheeks and kept sucking without lessening his force.

Somehow Louis had ended up on his tippy toes, and when he got his senses back, his feet were noticeably sore. He fell back against the wall while weakly pushing Harry’s face off his dick at the same time.

Despite Harry’s smug expression as he licked and smacked his own lips, Louis smiled dopily down at him.

“Well, that didn’t take long,” Louis said lazily as he pulled up his jeans and refastened them slowly, uncoordinatedly. Too late he thought of reciprocation and murmured something to Harry about getting up from the floor so he could suck him off, too, but Harry just looked down at his crotch and awkwardly pulled at his jeans. When he looked back up, his smile was so wide that it covered his whole face.

“I just came so fucking hard in my pants,” he laughed.

Louis’ eyes were bright. “Did you really? That quick?”

Harry nodded, still chuckling. Sometimes his own dirty talk turned _himself_ on. He stood up inelegantly and pulled a small face at the feeling of his wet release smearing around inside his jeans. “I feel sixteen again.”

With his eyes now closed, Louis smiled softly and focused on normalizing his breathing. A smirk was on his lips when he asked, “Why’s that, Harry? You secretly gave head to random blokes in hallways at the age of sixteen, hm?”

“No—no secret, random blokes,” Harry easily replied, leaning closer to Louis as his mouth dropped to kiss at Louis’ neck. His almost-favorite thing to kiss. “More like I secretly dreamt of pretty boys—or just _one_ pretty boy, actually—and came in my pants a lot,” he laughed.

Louis tilted his head to the side to bare more of his neck and give Harry more skin to play with. He giggled. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed lowly, biting pink patches onto Louis’ skin now. “Woke up every morning with wet spots on the bed.”

Louis shook his head but chuckled, admitting, “You and me both. Damn those teenage hormones.” His hand traveled between their tight bodies and delicately touched the soft bulge at the front of Harry’s pants. He just barely gave a little squeeze there. “Too bad you came already. I’d gladly kneel in front of you right now.”

Harry groaned at the oversensitive sensation of being touched right after coming, yet he still put his own hand on top of Louis’, right on top of his still-throbbing dick. “And I’d kneel for you anytime,” he whispered back. “You own me. Every bit of me, you fucking own, baby. You know that, yeah?”

Louis melted. All the things that had been stressing him out—his imminent _growing older_ , their forced closeting, _everything_ —meant nothing anymore as far as Louis was concerned. He had Harry. The couple stared at each other in a sickeningly-sweet manner until a voice shouting from down the hall startled them out of their moment. Neither Harry nor Louis had even heard any footsteps approaching.

“Oi!”

Louis and Harry’s heads both turned quickly in startled surprise, moving their hands quickly away from one another, but Harry’s stomach dropped back to its normal position after realizing it was just Liam.

With eyes opened wide in obvious guesswork at what was going on, Liam held his hands up, signaling he wasn’t about to ask the pair any questions. Regardless, he smirked as he said, “They’re ready for you in there, Harry.”

“What?” Louis interjected, faux-indignant. “And they’re not ready for me?”

“The mics are still acting up, so to save time we’re just practicing the solos first. You don’t have any on this one,” Liam reminded.

“Well, obviously,” Louis said under his breath, running his hands along his trousers to ensure his clothes were in order. “When do I ever?”

Liam didn’t hear Louis, though, and, thinking he was now being followed, he began walking in the direction from which he’d come. Harry remained stood at Louis’ side, however, and he reached out for Louis’ jaw, hoping to turn Louis’ face to see him better.

“Hey,” Harry beckoned quietly.

“I was just kidding,” Louis said, slightly moving his face away from Harry’s touch and flattening out invisible wrinkles on his shirt. “No need to get all sitcom-y on me.”

Harry dropped his hand to his side. “Sitcom-y?”

“Yeah, like—you know, the moment at the end of a show where the _music plays_ and the _lesson is learned_ and the _tears are shed_. I don’t need a speech or anything, Harry. Shouldn’t’ve even said anything.” Louis shook his head and began walking ahead of Harry.

“Well, you’re—“

Louis’ voice was clipped. “It’s fine, honestly. We should get back. This is last-minute enough.”

Harry swallowed any retorts he might’ve had. Obviously Louis was lying, but he knew that now wasn’t a good time to actually press the issue. So, naturally, in an attempt to make Louis happy again, Harry walked ahead of Louis and blocked him from going any further. Louis sighed, but Harry remained unwaveringly determined.

“If you need me to remind you of how crucial your voice is to this band, I can easily do so, you know.”

Unmoving, Louis silently nodded at the floor. Harry stepped more into Louis’ space and put his hands on Louis’ waist, the same position they were in just moments ago.

“I’ll drive all the way back home…” Harry whispered as he walked Louis to the wall, “…get you all alone in our room where you can be loud…maybe on the bed so you’d be extra comfy…and then you could really let me hear how strong your voice can get. Be as loud as you want, even.”

Louis was now pressed completely against the wall again. When Harry coaxed Louis to look at him with a gentle finger pressing his chin upward, Louis looked like he was fighting back a smile.

“Maybe I’ll even record you,” Harry went on, “so I can replay it if I need to. In case I ever need to make sure you’re still a good fit for the sound the band’s going for.”

Louis pouted. “I like to think I’m a very good fit.”

“ _A perfect_ fit,” Harry agreed. His shoulders were hunched over now, his forehead pressed to Louis’, torsos touching. They were an entire universe of their own in the small space they encompassed.

Louis understood by the look in Harry’s eyes that, though he was using innuendo, he was still genuinely complimenting one of Louis’ strongest self-doubts: his singing. Louis could feel Harry’s soft breath on his face, and the urge to push up on his tip-toes and kiss Harry was strong, so he did.

The kiss was wet, and Harry smiled. “Taste yourself?”

Louis nodded and kissed Harry again, slower as he dragged his little hands down Harry’s back. “But you know, lying down won’t be good for my diaphragm…if I’m trying to show you how _strong my voice is_ and all.”

Harry acted put out as he stood up straight and rolled his eyes. “Then I _guess_ I’ll allow you to stand up.”

“I might need your help staying upright, though,” Louis said, glinting eyes not leaving Harry, his fingers now hooked in Harry’s belt-loops. “Apparently my knees get all weak and wobbly when I sing.”

Harry grinned. “Yeah, you tend to lose control, don’t you?”

Louis nodded his head slowly, and Harry leaned forward to latch his teeth onto Louis’ neck again.

“No control at all, huh?” Harry asked after a particularly stinging bite.

Louis loudly laughed in response, his bottom lip tucked completely in his mouth from the sensation.

“Tell me again how work gets in the way of you and me,” Harry whispered. “I’m curious.”

Louis could come back with a half-dozen retorts about how management (and the other lads now, too) were already doing their best to ensure that neither of them were seen standing next to one another— _interacting_ with one another, even—but his brain wouldn’t focus on any of that negativity at the moment. Harry had just literally whisked Louis away from work to get on his knees and suck his dick. That trumped all else at the moment.

With his thumb, Harry touched Louis’ bottom lip and pulled it down and out of Louis’ mouth. The two boys just stared at each other then, attraction rolling off of them in thick waves regardless of them both orgasming just minutes ago. It was just—Harry pulled Louis’ bottom lip in his own mouth and sucked it much as he’d sucked Louis’ cock earlier—nothing ever got old between the two of them—Harry began nibbling on it a bit—and no matter how long they’d been together—Louis moaned again, mouth already completely slack—it would never change, it would never be any different—and Liam was back again.

“For fuck’s sake,” Liam loudly swore. “Now’s seriously not the time. They’re waiting on you!”

Harry dropped Louis’ lip from his teeth. “Fucking Liam.”

“Coming!” Louis hollered before he slid down the wall to escape Harry and began walking down the hall.

Harry popped Louis on the arse hard before Louis could get too far ahead, and Louis scuttled forward and put both hands on his bum in reaction to the burn. Turning around to face Harry, Louis lifted a leg to kick at the taller boy, but Harry quickly grabbed and twisted it away from his own body.

Louis took advantage of Harry’s lack of hands and began pawing at his chest the best he could, his small body contorting strangely with the weird position—leg still in the air, small chest leaning forward.

When Louis finally made contact and hit Harry’s arm— _hard_ —“ _Oww!_ ”—Harry dropped Louis’ leg and lunged forward in retaliation, but Louis just slapped Harry’s chest one more time before laughing maniacally and darting off quickly. Harry might’ve been a tad bit stronger than Louis was, but fuck, was he slow sometimes. Louis at least had agility on his side. (Well, _and_ Harry had just come in his pants.)

Louis had already turned the corner and was already down the next hall before Harry could even react, but Harry rose to the challenge quickly. He sprinted to catch up with Louis, and once he did, he did the first thing he could think of and pulled at Louis’ arm. Louis pinched Harry in retaliation, and after that, it became a pinching war.

“Ow!”

“ _Ow_!

“Oww! _Wanker_!”

“ _Stop_!” Harry shouted, laughing. He stood behind Louis’ back, wrapped his arms around Louis in a giant backwards hug, and tried to restrain Louis’ arms to no avail.

Louis just pinched Harry harder, anywhere he could reach, while Harry walked them both forward. “ _You_ stop!”

The boys were arriving nearer and nearer to the main door of the music hall, pinching each other incessantly as they passed important-looking people walking quickly and speaking into headsets.

“You did it to me first! _You_ stop!” Harry yelled stubbornly. He flicked Louis’ shoulder and then grabbed a nipple _hard_ before twisting it.

“ _Owww_ , Harry! You _bastard_ —Oww, f- _fuck_!”

Louis was still smiling throughout it all, and he stuck out his bum to try to wiggle his body out of Harry’s grip. The motion ended up catapulting him forward, however, and he ended up banging his body against the door, falling down from the impact.

“Oh, shit,” Louis chortled, now lying down on the floor. He put his hands on his tummy as he just lay there and laughed, still cackling as the door opened and a serious-looking Liam looked down at him.

“Louis, come on, sort yourself out,” Liam said, all professional now.

Harry pulled at his shirt and flicked his hair to the side to get it out of his eyes. He stepped over Louis and began making his way inside the large room, saying, “Yeah, _Louis_. I’ve got a job to do here.”

“Yeah, well, have fun doing it in your _condition_ ,” Louis said evasively.

“You two really ought to consider the lengths of your hair when giving each other love bites like that,” Liam suggested, frowning down at Louis at the sight of his neck. “Harry could easily hide something like that with just his hair, but…you?” Liam trailed off, shaking his head. “You’ll need tons of makeup for those things.”

Louis stood up, shrugged, and gestured to Liam’s own hair. “Don’t think you have the right to comment on hair styles, to be fair, Liam. What’ve you got going on up here, then? Three different haircuts all with different lengths? Is this a new statement you’re making, or…?”

Liam sighed but still ended up laughing not a few seconds later. “Shut up.”

 

* * *

 

After rehearsals were through, there was enough time for everybody to hang out and eat lunch before they had to get ready for the show. That was always a fun occurrence for everybody because it meant running around half-nude, giving their team a hard time and building up their adrenaline, but it also gave them serious time to reflect on their success. They remembered when they used to be nervous for this type of thing, performing in front of so many other big names, and now they were just excited. It was mad.

In addition to winning an award that night, they absolutely _smashed_ their performance. Backstage, they received a lot of praise by people they’d been in awe of since _they were little_ , and all of their faces hurt from smiling so much.

Even though Louis unfortunately had to go home alone after the long night of photographs and interviews, he rode the high of the night’s events well into the early-morning hours. He was just finishing his bedtime tea, trying to tell his body it was time for sleep, when he heard the front door rattle and then open. His head darted to the sound he’d been impatiently anticipating.

 _Finally_ , Louis thought. The plane to Madrid literally took off at eight o’clock in the morning, and neither he nor Harry had even packed yet. (They’d barely had time to _unpack_ these days, actually, but—oh, well.)

A wary-looking Harry trudged inside, shaking off rain from his hair and difficultly kicking off his boots as if his legs weighed a hundred pounds. Audibly shivering, he shook off his trench coat and hung it up beside the door.

“Hey, love,” Harry muttered as he walked further inside and dropped his keys on the kitchen island. His fingers absentmindedly skimmed Louis’ back as he plodded to the refrigerator.

After placing his dirty cup with all the others in the kitchen sink, Louis walked up behind Harry and wrapped his arms around him. “Tired?” he asked, then—“Brr, you’re cold.”

Harry began drinking milk directly out of the carton, something he seldom did, so that answered the question for Louis about whether Harry was tired or not. Harry put the cap back on the bottle and smacked his lips. “You’ve no idea. It’s fucking freezing out there.”

“Well, good thing I’ve got it nice and toasty in here tonight, then,” Louis said, too bubbly for the hour. He removed his arms from Harry and took a few steps back. “Hungry? Want me to make you something to eat? Oh, you just got back from the after-party…They probably fed you well,” he commented more or less to himself.

Harry was already heading for the stairs. “Just gonna go to bed.”

“What, and pack when you get up?” Louis asked, following him.

Harry made some sort of grunt in reply.

Louis fondly laughed, staring up at Harry’s back as they both ascended the stairs and headed for their bedroom. “You too drunk?”

“Nah,” Harry answered quietly. “Didn’t drink.”

“So…you went to an after-party and…didn’t drink.”

“I’m tired. Been a long day. I didn’t even really want to go,” Harry explained. “Fucking Liam dragged me out.”

Harry turned the doorknob and gratefully didn’t comment on the mess Louis’d left on the floor as he entered the room and began walking over piles of crap.

“Fucking Liam,” Louis echoed.

The boys readied themselves for bed silently. They piddled about in the loo without saying a word—just silently brushed their teeth and then washed their faces side-by-side. After half-heartedly wiping off splattered water on the counter, Harry flossed his teeth while Louis took a wee and left the room without flushing the toilet. When both boys undressed and finally crawled into bed, Harry snuggled in close to Lou and pulled him in tightly with a little contented sigh.

“It is nice and warm in here,” Harry drowsily said. “’S lovely. Night, baby.”

Of course, Louis wasn’t ready to wind down just yet. Having waited on Harry to come home for the end of the evening and now into the early-morning hours, Louis was restless. After long minutes of shifting about, punching the pillow under his head, and sighing, he turned around in Harry’s arms. Instinctually, Harry moved to lie on his back so Louis could place his head on his chest, and Louis gratefully accepted the new cushion. He mindlessly began running a hand along Harry’s chest, stroking the skin and playing with the hair there, swirling it around in patterns. Harry hummed but otherwise remained motionless.

Eventually, Louis got bored, so he randomly kissed around on Harry’s chest and munched on bits of skin. Moments later, he was kissing his way _down_ Harry’s chest until reaching the progressively darker hairs below Harry’s belly button and licking there. Harry wasn’t showing any signs of interest in what Louis was doing—had just let his arm that was formerly holding Louis flop to the mattress—and Louis paused with a frown at the lack of attention he was getting.

With his eyes closed, Harry shook his head, though Louis hadn’t really asked anything aloud. Harry lazily scratched Louis’ hair. “I’d fall asleep in the middle of it, babe.”

Nonetheless, Louis situated himself between Harry’s legs and put his fingers under the elastic of Harry’s boxers. As he stared at the tight little muscles of Harry’s stomach and pictured them clenching and unclenching with orgasm, Louis smirked. “Not with my mouth, you won’t. I owe you from earlier.”

Harry felt Louis begin to tug at his underwear, and he put his hands on top of Louis’ to stop him.

“No, really, it’s okay,” Harry said heavily, wiggling his pelvis away from Louis a bit. “I’m about to pass out, Lou.”

Where Louis would’ve normally been offended, this time he just softly sighed in resignation and crawled up the bed again. He plopped down on his back beside Harry, and Harry immediately threw a lazy arm around his middle.

“Don’t be mad,” Harry slurred after tucking his face into the crook of Louis’ arm.

“Shh,” was Louis’ reply. Soon he heard the heavy and thick breathing that signaled Harry was already beginning to fall asleep.

Maybe this was what it would be like years down the road when he and Harry were older and married, Louis thought as he stared at the ceiling. Maybe, instead of their usual evenings met with boundless energy and enthusiasm, of having sex for hours on end—coming two, three times in a day -- in one _session_ , even—there’d be more evenings where he and Harry both came home haggard and worn-out. Too tired to prepare dinner. Too tired to fuck. Too tired to even think about fucking. _Old_. And maybe that would be okay.

Maybe there’d be lots of little ones running around the house that made it hard to even find _time_ to have sex. Maybe there’d be squealing laughter and stomping feet and annoying complaints and loud crying and cartoons blaring out the television all day long…. And maybe, actually, that was completely satisfying to Louis.

Maybe Louis and Harry would actually be publically out by then.

No, they’d _definitely_ be out by then. They had to be.

Louis hoped.

The glimmer of hope about the prospects of his and Harry’s shared future fulfilled Louis and put him at ease, and he stretched his body to place a small kiss onto Harry’s hair. Not even knowing if Harry was still awake to hear, Louis whispered, “I love you,” and comfortably settled back onto the mattress.

“Luh you, too,” Harry slurred back, and soon he began snoring.

Louis dozed off with a smile on his face.

 

* * *

 

 

Spain came and went. Some other place came and went. The band truly became like frogs, squatting in one spot for a few moments for some to-do only to hop somewhere else shortly afterwards. Europe was vast yet compartmentalized, so the boys could easily be in one country by morning and another by night. If the first week of December was busy, the second one was excessive.

Everyone remained quite content throughout it all, though, especially Liam. Crinkly-eyed and happy no matter what, Liam was the guiding force, the brunt of Zayn’s and Louis’ jokes who kept their energy going, and the primary talker during interviews, even though most all questions were aimed at Harry these days.

 _Harry_ , who Louis hadn’t had a proper conversation with in forever.

Or a few days. Same thing.

In addition to the dismally familiar routine of ignoring each other while working in public, Harry had begun wandering around by himself in between scheduled band events. Either for mandated public relations of his own or for regular catch-up dates with friends he scarcely saw anymore, Harry sometimes went to entirely different cities than the rest of the lads.

But that was all right. It was understandable.

To be fair, everyone else had started to do their own things when they could, too. They all had stuff they always did on tour that gave them a little time to recharge by themselves, and though they weren’t technically touring yet, extensive travel was no different; it still wore a person out. Zayn spent most of his time alone, laying low and reading, listening to music, or speaking to his family when possible. Liam carved out a spot of his own at a West London nightclub and made a lot of useful connections while drinking. And Niall…Well, nobody really knew what Niall got up to, but Louis suspected it had something to do with Michael Bublé.

Louis couldn’t deny that it was nice to be on his own, as well, to venture out and visit uncharted areas of cities he’d already seen before but hadn’t really gotten to explore, to go solo-clubbing when he could. It was fun. Plus, when he and Harry were away from one another, it gave them the opportunity to be stupid to each other over the phone. They probably sent each other a thousand and two photos of whatever they were up to, so it wasn’t really that _empty_ of a feeling for Louis and Harry—just a little incomplete. In response to the one-hundredth meaningless, colorless picture Harry sent him of a random street sign, though, Louis sent a series of deep-looking black-and-white selfies of himself sitting on the toilet.

So—they spent a lot of time laughing and fondly staring at the screens of their cell phones while they were in different places and trying _not_ to laugh and fondly stare at each other while in the _same_ place.

In order to prevent any potential slip-ups, Liam and Niall and Zayn began acting as personal buffers whenever Louis and Harry got too close to each other in public, but they really needn’t wasted their time. For Harry and Louis these days, touching one another in public was like bringing together two opposing ends of a magnet: their hands retracted so quickly, there could be a literal force-field restricting the contact.

The lack of touch left them starving.

Today, their flight to France would’ve been a great opportunity for them to actually _chill_ , to maybe even become reacquainted with each other’s mouths after another few days of pretending that the other didn’t exist, but sadly, that wasn’t going to happen.

Louis wouldn’t be kissing Harry this afternoon _or_ any time soon, because Louis’ breath smelt like cough drops. Louis’ breath smelt like cough drops, because Louis had gotten sick.

That “lingering sickness” he’d had a few weeks ago had come back somehow. Or had mutated into a full-fledged cold overnight. He should’ve listened to Harry and taken those expensive vitamins from that organic food store Harry shopped at, but instead, he’d been feeding his body with fast food and junk.

Louis _hated_ feeling unwell and, worse, hated travelling unwell; it only made his head hurt even worse.  So after situating himself in his roomy seat aboard the plane, he sulkily put on his headphones, turned on some music, and fell asleep under a giant blanket.

Harry thought he looked soft and delicate and vulnerable. Liam thought he looked like a perfect target for a prank.

Harry took a picture of Louis on his phone and desired nothing more than to be able to just _hold_ him for the rest of the trip.

 

* * *

 

Louis was already in his hotel room in southern France, curled up in bed, when Harry had arrived separately. Only able to lift the corners of his mouth in a very miniscule acknowledgement of Harry, Louis hadn’t spoken at all, just kept sporadically coughing underneath the many layers of hotel linens he had up to his chin.

Harry’s eyes turned down at the edges in concern and pity. He was the one who had most likely gotten Louis sick, after all. Or maybe it was Zayn, who had himself just gotten over the flu. Or maybe it was all the travelling and eating unwell that had finally taken their toll on Louis. Whatever it was, Harry felt bad. He hated seeing Louis sick.

Robotically, Harry began unpacking clothes from his rucksack, and he set them out on a chair for the awards show that night, though he’d probably be swayed to wear something else. He moved around slowly and silently, hardly able to keep his eyes from darting to Louis every other second, until he finally gave in and sat on the bed beside Louis.

He felt the hardness of Louis’ legs touch his back and brought a hand to Louis’ clammy forehead. A sickly smell of cough medicine encircled Louis’ mouth, and, sighing, Harry backed away.

“I don’t think you should go,” Harry said. “I think you’re feverish.”

Louis frowned. He lifted his sunken eyes to Harry and, endorsing Harry’s statement, lifted the covers up over his face. He proceeded to go to sleep. He missed the award show.

(He didn’t, however, miss watching bits and pieces of it live. He saw the cameras sporadically flick to his four bandmates, saw Niall looking like he was having the time of his life, and saw Liam and Zayn speak to each other in hushed tones whenever something interesting happened. _Touching_ each other. Whispering in each other’s ears.)

 

* * *

 

 

 

Back in the suite, Harry stood in front of the large bathroom mirror beside Louis. Though Harry was only going to go right back out again, he wanted to change into more comfortable clothes, and of course he wanted to check on Louis, too, so here he was.

Louis seemed to be feeling a bit better. Harry didn’t think his nose looked quite as red anymore and he was walking around, at least (not pasted to his bed like Harry had pitifully been when _he’d_ been feeling unwell), so those were good signs. While Louis brushed his teeth, he avoided making eye-contact with Harry, however, and he didn’t respond in any way when Harry placed a kiss to his temple.

“Hey,” Harry tried, but Louis just spit out the remnants of his toothpaste and turned the other way. Harry could tell simply from Louis’ facial expression that he was annoyed with something and not just feeling cruddy from his cold.

“Nope,” Harry said, grabbing Louis’ jumper to keep him from getting any further. “We’re not doing this. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing, Harry,” Louis said thickly, his voice scratchy yet nasally at the same time. He shrugged his way out of Harry’s grip and walked out of the room. “I’m going to bed.”

Harry quickly followed Louis. “Don’t get distant. C’mon.”

“I just—ughh,” Louis settled with, shaking his head at his own self before plopping his entire body down on the bed. “I hate this. I hate feeling like this.”

“What, this sick?”

“Just, _bad_. It’s stupid.”

Considering Louis’ words, Harry’s face scrunched up like a frog and he sat on the side of the bed next to Louis. “Need me to get you more medicine?”

“No,” Louis answered. “I mean bad, like—I don’t know.” Louis rolled onto his side and muttered, “We’ve gone over this a hundred times. Nothing I can do, so I need to get over it.”

Harry caught on quickly. “You’re sore that I’m going to the after-party and you’re not?”

When Louis’ silence was Harry’s answer, Harry sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “Babe, it’s not like that.”

“I know,” Louis answered, almost accepting of this sad fact. Still, he frowned.

“In the future you’ll be able to go to other stuff when I’m there, too, I’m sure,” Harry tried to reassure, petting Louis’ hair now. “You’re just sick right now, so obviously…” he trailed off. Meeting Louis’ eyes, his face was genuine as he said, “I wanted to just stay here afterwards, you know. But they weren’t trying to hear it. Want me to be seen out, having fun with other _famous_ people.” Harry hated that word.

“You know damn well even if I were feeling great right now I still wouldn’t be able to go with you, Harry,” Louis quickly snapped. “It’s not that you’re going to the after-party and I’m not. It’s—you’re going to the after-party and _I can’t_.”

Harry’s mouth was a thin line. There was a long, terse silence as Harry’s hand stilled in Louis’ hair and he stared out into the room. “I don’t know what else to say. I’ll go, do what I have to do, and be back here as soon as I can.”

Louis scoffed. His eyes held a thousand more emotions than what he was simply displaying now, and Harry’s frown deepened.

“What else is it.” Harry said it like a statement.

Louis shook his head, feeling like dumbbells were rolling around inside. “I’m being fucking annoying as usual, and I fucking hate it!” he answered loudly, causing Harry to retract his hand. It wasn’t too often that Louis admitted his feelings quite so soon, so easily, so…explosively.

Louis sat up in bed and sniffed before falling into a pathetic coughing fit. When it was over, he went on, voice far too loud for how achy it was, “You’d think that I’d stop being this way by now. You’d think that I’d have some – some type of _character growth_ or something after all this time, yeah? After how long we’ve been together, everything we’ve been through…” Louis contemptuously laugh-coughed and widely spread out his arms. “But no, I guess this is what you’re stuck with, Harry. Some whinging boyfriend, jealous of Zayn and Liam being able to talk whenever they fucking want to…insecure about everything, no matter what it is.”

Harry stared at Louis for a very long time, face looking angry, before he stood up and pulled his hair. “God, this is so tiring,” he grumbled, sounding like a bear. “I’m just so fucking tired of this shit.”

Affronted, Louis dropped his arms. “Well, _excuse_ me, I can’t help my feelings, and you’re the one who’s always going on about me _sharing_ —you’ve literally just asked me to—“

“We’re in the same band, Louis. We’re in the same band and we’ve been forced to ignore each other,” Harry spiritedly interrupted. “What part of that _wouldn’t_ be difficult? And you think you’re being annoying? _Really_? You’re—you’re—”

Harry lost his train of thought and began pacing. “And—And—You think you’re the only one who’s affected by this? You think I like walking right by you when there’re cameras around and not even acknowledging you? When all I want to do is just fucking _touch_ you? You think I want to go to this fucking after-party without you? You think I want to go at all when you’re here _sick_?”

Louis’ gaping mouth closed shut. Harry, normally composed and even-toned, was getting loud. Was talking a l _ot_.

He was mad.

Seeing Harry angry both captivated and worried Louis because _one_ , it rarely happened, and _two_ , when it did, Harry was like a tornado. The mood would come with little to no warning, make a big, stormy stir,  and then, when it was over, there would be a calm so still it always left Louis second-guessing whether or not anything had actually occurred.

“I—I didn’t mean it like that. I know it affects you, too,” Louis said apologetically. “…I wasn’t trying to make it all about me or anything—”

“You think it doesn’t kill me when you reach for my hand and I have to pull away? When my eyes automatically go to you first when I enter a room you’re in, but I have to force myself to look at something else? When I’ve had to sit next to Liam and Zayn for hours tonight and watch them fucking talk into each other’s fucking ears and laugh like fucking schoolboys?” Harry accentuated his bellowing statement by punching the wall, and Louis’ mouth dropped open.

Louis was upset about the exact same thing. He dropped his head. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you this mad.”

“I’m not mad at you,” Harry replied gruffly, chest heaving. “I’m mad at this entire situation. God forbid anybody see me _looking_ at you! Being seen at the same _party_ as you!” he continued. He’d uselessly lifted an alarm clock sitting on the desk there, pulling the plug out of the socket with passionate force, before slamming it back down on the table. “Despite all the evil in the world, the worst thing imaginable is two males in love! Even if it’s just people _speculating_ it! Imagine!”

Louis had opened up the huge, pressure-filled bottle of Harry’s pent-up emotions, and his face fell in guilt. “Harry…”

“You know what I was thinking,” Harry said, sitting back down on the bed. “Back at the show.”

Louis shook his head. He reached for a tissue next to him and loudly blew his nose. “Try to calm down,” he said half-heartedly, for Harry was still speaking heatedly.

“I was thinking—even if you were there—“ Harry laughed hollowly— “we still wouldn’t be sat next to each other, you know. We’d stare straight ahead the entire night, maybe speak to whoever was beside us. But no contact with each other.” Harry twisted his body and looked at Louis. “That’s what I was thinking. How it’s become something so normal now. To overlook you.”

Louis’ solemn face still hadn’t changed. He placed a hand on Harry’s knee.

“We’ve both gotten so good at this act,” Harry said, tone finally dropping to something resembling normal at Louis’ soothing touch, “that it’s made us believe that…that it’s made us believe that wanting it to be different is wrong or something. You’re here yet again beating yourself up for thinking you’re being clingy just because you want to go with me to an after-party. And you have every right to want to go. You have every right _to_ go. Sick or not, you know, you should have the choice to go.”

Louis’ eyes shifted to the side as he placed his hand back in his lap. He nodded the slightest bit.

“When they make you do things with the other boys but not me,” Harry continued, “I feel like shit, too. Who wouldn’t? It’s not right.”

“Nope,” Louis agreed, ending the word with a popping sound. His eyebrows curved downwards forlornly as his blank eyes looked beyond Harry to a spot on the wall.

“If you’re insecure, then I’m insecure, _too_ , Louis,” Harry admitted, grabbing Louis’ hands in his own, beckoning his attention. “I need you, _too_. Okay? I guess I don’t tell you enough because I try to stay strong for the both of us… And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I haven’t been able fix this. I know it’s eating you up inside.”

“It’s not up to you _to_ fix it, Harry,” Louis grumbled. “It is what it is.”

“No,” Harry said firmly. “This fucking changes, _now_. I’m done. I am _done_. I can’t take leaving you upset all the time because we have to be separated at fucking _band_ functions. Or them uselessly making us stay in different hotels half the time. I can’t do it anymore. It’s breaking my heart.”

The way Harry said that made Louis want to cry. He’d promised that things would be different once they were on tour, that he’d interact more with Louis, but—a.) They weren’t on tour yet, and b.) Any time Harry _did_ try to make good on his promise and stand next to Louis in public at the events that were currently happening, he was told to move.

“I just fucking—I just want you to be happy,” Harry continued, squeezing Louis’ hands. “I just want to make you happy, Lou. I want to – I want to live in a world where we can be happy together.”

“So…” Louis cleared his throat. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’ve already told you that I’m changing my behavior once we go on tour. And I mean that,” Harry promised vehemently. “But…But I think we need to do something else.”

Louis turned his head and coughed, refusing to take his hands out of Harry’s. His slightly blood-shot eyes looked at Harry’s again before he asked, “Like what?”

“We’re going to meet with them,” Harry answered firmly. “Management. We’re going to meet with them, and we’re going to tell them that we’re going public with our relationship. On our own terms.”

 

* * *

 

 

 **Zain [15:35]**  
forgot the card thing let me in

Liam looked down at the text lighting up his mobile and walked to the hotel door wearing no clothes whatsoever. He hid behind the door as he opened it for Zayn, and Zayn strolled inside and passed Liam as if this were a completely normal occurrence.

(It technically had become one.)

“ _McDonald’s_ ,” Liam said in a French accent, noticing the large bag in Zayn’s hand.

Zayn rubbed his stomach happily. _“Bon_ _appétit,_ babe _.”_

“What’d you get?”

“Guess,” Zayn said as he hopped on the bed.

“A twenty-piece McNugget thing and a large fry,” Liam stated right away. He looked at Zayn’s other hand and added, “And a Coke.”

Zayn grinned and opened the sack of food. He reached inside and threw a burger at Liam before pulling out his own meal and immediately devouring it.

“You’re bloody mental, by the way,” Zayn finally told Liam with a mouth full of half-chewed chicken nuggets. “It’s freezing in here and you’ve got fuck-all on. Why don’t you get dressed?”

Liam paused mid-bite and looked down at himself. He finished chewing and swallowed. “Thought you’d react differently to seeing my man meat on open display like this.”

Zayn pulled a grossed-out face. “Ew, Liam. Don’t call it that.”

Liam flexed his muscles comically and froze in a stupid pose. “What? Man meat?”

“If you say that more time, you’re not getting near me all night.” He slurped the remnants of his soda through a straw. “Seriously.”

Liam finished the last few bits of his hamburger and threw the crinkly wrapping paper in a nearby bin. He walked slowly to Zayn, pretending to be sultry as his low-hanging dick swayed side-to-side. He reached the bed.

“Don’t,” Zayn said, tensing up.

Liam took one more step forward and pounced. _“Man meat.”_

“No!” Zayn shouted, shielding his food. “ _No_. Get it away. Get it away from me.”

 

* * *

 

 

Louis had forgotten which city—or country—he’d woken up in, yet as he got out of bed and stretched, the view from the window reminded him where he was: _New York_.

How could he have forgotten they were in _America_? It was literally a nonstop, eight hour flight he’d just been on. Christ. They’d all gotten a two-day break before flying over, but still—Louis was so fucking exhausted. And there were interviews today. _Lovely_.

The jet lag wasn’t as bad as, say, travelling to Australia or something, but Louis’ body still needed some recuperation time after flying across an entire ocean. After sneaking into Harry’s hotel last night (he’d had reservations made for him at another hotel, but as always, ditched them) and showering, he’d fallen asleep without even getting redressed for bed.

Currently scuffling through his suitcase in just his underwear, Louis wrinkled up and messied all of his neatly-folded washing as he searched for his socks. This is why he hated wearing them, even in winter. They got lost no matter what.

“Fuck, why can’t I ever find a damn thing,” Louis grumbled. “Harry—where are you? Harry? Harry, have you seen—“

“In the side pocket thing,” Harry answered absentmindedly. “On the inside right.”

Harry was stood in front of the closet, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. He pulled random articles of clothing out by their hangers and set them one-by-one on the bed behind him. The fact that he always went through the trouble of actually unpacking his suitcases and _hanging up his clothes_ when staying in hotels boggled Louis because Louis was always one to simply live out of his suitcase. Louis had gotten so used to this habit of Harry’s, however, that he’d stopped commenting on how weird it was. Like everything else with Harry, it’d just turned into another endearing quirk. At the moment, though, it was somewhat irritating, and Louis didn’t know why.

Finding the socks right where Harry’d said they’d be, Louis sighed. He looked around at the area surrounding his suitcase, now completely littered with his clothes. Well. That hadn’t taken long.

“How did I end up with all this shit packed in here, anyway?” Louis asked. “I don’t even remember putting all this in here.”

“I might’ve thrown some extra stuff in there for you,” Harry answered, dropping his towel to put on his underpants. “We’ll be here almost an entire week.”

“Well, I know that already,” Louis said a little moodily.

This was _The Week_ , after all—the week everyone had been silently anticipating. Though they were currently occupying different hotels, all the guys were going to buy out the upper level of the Soho Grand in a few short days to hopefully engage in kinky shenanigans before going back to Europe. It should’ve been a thrilling and optimistic prospect, but Louis couldn’t help but feel grumpy. His head hurt. Man, he really needed a good fuck. It had been entirely too long. Too bad there was literally no bloody time for it at all.

“I don’t stuff my luggage full so there’s room to fit the stuff that I _buy_ when I go out, Harry. You know this.”

Harry stretched his arms through a shirt and began buttoning it up. “Stuff you buy and never wear.”

“I _do_ wear it,” Louis argued. Innocent as the statement was, Harry sounded like his damn mother. As he stared at the clothes covering the floor, Louis made his point by picking out a shirt that he’d bought in Germany along with some jeans he’d gotten in Australia ages ago. He quickly dressed and turned back to Harry.

“Okay,” Harry simply replied as if he weren’t impressed.

Normally, Louis wouldn’t’ve been annoyed, but he still wasn’t feeling his usual self, and he genuinely rolled his eyes at Harry’s reply. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. He needed to leave the stuffy hotel room. He needed to go outside. He wasn’t even mad at Harry and here he was talking to him like trash. Stupid Harry and his stupid, sexy, not-really-buttoned-up-all-the-way shirt. Louis had to look away.

Louis picked up his jean-jacket and, before putting it on, felt at the pockets with his fingers. “Okay…now where have I put my cigarettes?”

“You really think you ought to be smoking?” Harry asked genuinely, his face in a small grimace as he brushed a knot out of his hair in front of a mirror.

Louis sighed. “I’m not even sick anymore, Harry.”

Harry finally turned his body to face Louis. Louis was nervous. It was clear; he was acting jittery and anxious. Snappy. On edge. “Yeah, you are. Can’t you suck on a cough drop or something instead?”

“That’s not even remotely the same.”

“Yeah, but it’ll be more beneficial to you right now than smoking would, I think,” Harry said reasonably.

“Stop riding my arse about the fact that I smoke, Harry.”

“Actually, I’ve not said anything about your smoking,” Harry replied coolly. “But when you’re getting over a cold, that’s different. When you’re still waking up coughing in the middle of the night, the junk in your chest is obviously still trying to break up.”

Louis’ chest rumbled as he made a noise deep in his throat. “Okay, so you’re obviously hiding my cigarettes. I’ll just ask Zayn then,” he huffed as he put his jacket on and walked to the door.

Harry began jumping up and down in an effort to get his jeans up his legs and over his bum. “Forgive me for caring whether you’re properly dressed for the weather or, you know, just about your overall health in general,” he said just loudly enough for Louis to hear.

“ _Harry_ ,” Louis whined, facing the door with his hands held up in frustration. “I’m not trying to do this right now.”

Louis placed a hand on the doorknob and pulled, and when he realized he’d forgotten to unlatch the deadbolt up top, he heaved an irritated sigh. “Oh, for fuck’s sake!” he yelled at the door.

“Baby,” Harry beckoned.

Louis grumbled some more as he tried to slide the latch to the side, but, as he was still impatiently pulling on the doorknob at the same time, all he succeeded in doing was loudly pulling and pushing the door back and forth. “ _Arrrggghhh_!”

“Love, come here,” Harry tried again.

Louis turned around and looked at Harry with a frown. Harry’s arms were open wide, and Louis waited almost one entire second before reluctantly—no, not reluctantly, actually - more like _gratefully_ —walking forward and falling into them.

“I’m not sick anymore, Harry,” Louis said adamantly, still fighting the case about his cigarettes. “I’m not.”

Harry’s mouth was set. “But you’re—”

“If I were really sick, I’d be lying on that bed pouting at you to bring me tea and rub my feet, and I’m not. I’m not sick. Look, I’m sorry if I kept you up last night coughing or something, but I don’t even remember that, and I feel fine,” Louis said, backing out of the hug. “Just tired, as’s to be expected after having just crossed a million time-zones. And you’re being quite controlling, you know. And not in the good way. I just really need a cigarette. Look, I’ve already bit my fingernails down as far as they’ll fucking go.” He held up a hand in front of Harry’s face.

Harry looked concerned. “What’s got you this anxious? It’s just interviews and Saturday Night Live rehearsals. We’ve done the show before. What’s wrong?”

Louis shrugged. “Mum and the girls’ll be there tomorrow. I’m always the most nervous when they’re watching. Plus, I’m fucking tired, and what if—my throat’s feeling a bit off—what if my voice doesn’t sound good when we’re live—“

“That’s what the rehearsal’s for, love. Try to relax. Your voice is always great,” Harry reassured. He didn’t rub it in Louis’ face that _he was right_ about Louis being sick still. Louis’d just admitted his throat was ‘feeling off’, but—whatever. This was the stubborn man he had fallen in love with, forever insecure about his singing. “And we’ll find ways to make it work even if you’re not feeling a hundred percent by then.”

Louis still didn’t relax. “And if you’re serious about us meeting with the lawyers to prepare our outing—“

“Of course I’m serious,” Harry interrupted. “I’ve already rung them and set up a meeting—”

“—then _that’s_ fucking stressful, because it’s—it’s gonna have such a huge impact on everything, Harry, like _everything_. It’s huge.”

“I realize this,” Harry stated. “And we’ve discussed this already. We’re doing it, babe. I know we don’t have entire control, but we’re going to do what we can to renegotiate things so we can come out, like, gradually. In a way that’s both in our best interest and in the best interest of the band. The proposal we came up with states all of this, and there’s no way management wouldn’t at least consider it. From a business perspective, it’s absolutely reasonable.”

“Yeah, it’ll draw more attention to the band,” Louis continued contemptuously, “which will in turn just equal more money for _them_ , fucking greedy bastards.”

Harry sighed. “We’ll see what the lawyers say first. Then, depending on what’s decided, we’ll meet together with the rest of the lads sometime after the holidays.”

“Okay.” Louis took a deep breath. He exhaled shakily. “It’ll be fine. It’ll be fine, right?”

“It’ll be fine,” Harry reassured.

Silently, Harry turned and opened the dresser drawer behind him. He shifted a few items around—a phone charger, a few watches, some socks—and Louis’ eyes widened as he looked inside and spotted a familiar red and white package.

Louis smiled but still shook his head at the fact that Harry even _used_ the fucking hotel drawers. And, _three watches?_ Seriously?

“I swear, you’re so quirky, Harry,” Louis murmured. He pointed to Harry’s Rolexes. “ _That’s_ ridiculous. You really ought to put those in the safe. What if someone came in and took them? Protect what’s yours, love.”

Harry fished out the pack of cigarettes and noticeably shook it in his hand. “I’m trying,” he said while placing the package in Louis’ open palm.

Louis stuck the pack of cigarettes in the right back pocket of his jeans and then shook his head. After a little sigh, his face softened. “Sorry. I’ve been a dickhead.”

Harry turned his head to the side at the same time his mouth turned downwards in thoughtful, comic agreeance. He looked like Robert DeNiro.

Louis laughed. “Oh, fuck off.”

Harry stepped forward, closer to Louis. He reached for Louis’ hands. “Make me.”

Louis smiled and hinged his elbows, lifting his and Harry’s entwined hands until they were both at his shoulder-level. “I mean…I could try, but you wouldn’t let me.” He didn’t even really know what that was supposed to mean, but he could flirt with Harry with literally no context.

Harry stared back at Louis, his eyes darkening. “This is true.”

Louis disentangled his fingers from Harry’s and reached out to catch Harry’s belt loop. Crooking his index finger around the loop closest to the zipper, Louis pulled Harry forward. “Want me to try something else then?”

Harry looked at Louis’ face for a hint. Louis’ eyes looked down at Harry’s jeans and then back to Harry’s face, and he licked his lips. It had seriously been too long.

Harry reached out and, with his thumb, traced Louis’ sharp cheek. “You’ve literally just woken up, and we’re already late as it is,” he reminded. “And your throat’s still not right.”

“Well, I’ve got hands, haven’t I?”

Louis rubbed the thin strip of denim covering Harry’s zipper with his thumb, and Harry felt his stomach twist.

Harry chuckled but looked at Louis curiously. “You’ve gone through, like, ten moods in ten minutes, Lou.”

Before Harry could say any more, Louis had already dropped down to his knees. With his eyes still swollen from sleep, he looked up at Harry at the same time as shucking Harry’s jeans down.

“What can I say? Bickering with you gets me turned on proper,” Louis said with a wink. And then he went to work.

Harry had no objections.

Afterwards, Harry watched as Louis brushed his teeth in a hurry and briskly walked out of the room, following the normal routine of secretly leaving the hotel alone to meet his ride outside in the back.

 

* * *

 

****

Their SNL performance went splendidly the following night, as to be expected. To be fair, the band’s acting talent really wasn’t to be matched by many, but more importantly, their singing was _on point._ Everyone left completely buzzing.

(And it was really cute watching Louis with his family afterwards. Seeing Louis interact with his younger sisters and mum was one of Harry’s favorite things. He adored how family-oriented Louis was, and just looking at Louis smile and _talk_ to them almost made Harry’s heart feel like bursting. Because he knew it meant so much for Louis to spend quality time with them, he didn’t mind at all that he went back to an empty hotel room that night, not even stirring when Louis crawled into bed with him much, much later.)

The next day was completely open, free for everybody to roam around the city and do whatever they pleased, so naturally, they all spent it sleeping in. By that afternoon, Louis felt like his normal self.

Liam had checked into the new hotel first that evening, the other guys staggering their own arrival times throughout the late-night hours. Though they’d booked an entire level to themselves, everyone threw their belongings in the same room, a large two-roomed suite with two huge televisions and two even huger beds.

Everybody drank and played cards on the mattress that night, and when Louis succumbed to the alcohol’s sleepy effects first, Harry put him to bed and then had a long-winded conversation with the other three lads about tomorrow’s events, ending it with a very special and unheard-of request.

Though he’d drunk more than anybody else last night _and_ had passed out on the floor, Niall was the first to wake up at the too-early hour of ten. After he showered, he dressed and plopped in a chair by the window, scrolling through his phone and drinking coffee just because it was there and easy to make. Within the next hour-and-a-half, the other lads all came to life, too, and by that time, Niall was already on his third cup of coffee. He kept thinking about what Harry had said last night. He bounced his leg up and down.

Wearing festive boxers covered in Christmas-tree lights, Liam walked around the room stretching before deciding to look out of the window. It was supposed to snow today, and he loved snow. After moving the curtain to the side and peeking at the street below, he quickly let the fabric drop from his fingers.

“They’ve already found us,” he commented. “Thought we’d been discreet last night.”

“Our wonderfully creative aliases must’ve failed us, Liam,” Louis lightly joked as he hopped off of the desk beside Niall. He was already showered and dressed in one of Harry’s hoodies and a new pair of jeans, and he was in a good mood. He’d spent a lot of time primping in the bath last night, and this morning, he knew he looked good.

Louis opened the curtains all the way and waved down to the little groups of people gathered outside. From this high up they were quite hard to make out, but regardless, Louis saw people excitedly jump and wave back at him, so he smiled. “Somebody must’ve figured them out.”

“Guess we’re stuck inside all day,” Liam sighed, walking back to the bed he and Zayn had shared last night. Harry and Louis had used the bed in the adjoining room of the suite, and Niall had… Liam shifted his eyes to Niall. Liam didn’t really know where Niall had slept.

“Don’t be a dick, Liam,” Zayn muttered. He emerged from the loo with wet hair, wearing only his y-fronts. “It’s freezing out. They wouldn’t be out there if they didn’t care.”

“And we wouldn’t be _here_ if they weren’t _there_ ,” Louis added, waving again with both hands before closing the curtain. Louis climbed back onto the desk beside Niall. It really _was_ cold outside. Just standing in front of the window and waving had made Louis’ hands chilly.

“I’ll send down some pizzas,” Niall said from his chair.

Zayn dug into his suitcase and pulled out neatly-folded clothes, deciding to ignore Liam’s little explanation of _how he didn’t mean it like that and blah blah_. Zayn smiled at Niall. “How friendly, Niall. My favorite brunch choice, myself.”

Niall laughed like he always did when anybody said anything remotely amusing and then stared a bit too long at Zayn getting dressed. Zayn was only wearing a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans but he looked as if he were about to do a photo shoot or something. And he’d just woken up. It was just—his hair had just been cut, and he had it all combed back, and it was wet, and the body wash he always used was wafting throughout the room, and everything was suddenly becoming so _real_ —

Niall didn’t know how he was going to control his jitters today. Today was _The Day_ , after all, and here everyone was going about their business like nothing was going to happen tonight. Had they forgotten? They couldn’t have forgotten.

Just then, Harry left the en suite with his hair pushed back and one hand on his bare stomach. “I feel gross,” he groused to the room at large. “Liam, you wanna go to the gym with me?”

Liam perked up. “Now?”

Harry hummed. “Soonish.”

“The one here?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Sure thing, mate. Entrance door’s blocked by fans, is the reason I asked.”

Harry’s eyes darted to where Louis was sat on the desk off to the side of the room, and they both smiled. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Liam replied. “Won’t really be able to go anywhere today.”

“And I picked such a covert name this time,” Harry said, snapping his fingers. “Thought I’d fooled them all.”

Niall placed his empty mug of coffee on the desk to his right and pushed it out of his sight. He didn’t normally drink the stuff, and certainly not that much of it. It was making his nerves worse, but he didn’t think anyone could tell. “What name’d you use?”

“Barry Baker.”

“You used _Barry Baker_ as your alias?” Niall asked. Beside him, Louis’ shoulders violently shook as he laughed. Liam had a stupid grin on his face.

Harry shrugged, chuckling to himself. “Baker is one of the top-fifty last names in America,” he stated, his hand out in front of him like always when he was explaining something, his fingers looking like they were spread inches apart, especially his pinkie. “I looked it up.”

Niall grinned and shook his head. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Why would something be wrong with me? I used to be a baker, Niall.”

 

* * *

 

 

While Liam and Harry went to the gym, Niall, Louis, and Zayn decided to check out the restaurant/bar downstairs. That turned out to be a brilliant idea because they were serving bottomless mimosas, and the boys rode the buzz from those particular two hours well into the late afternoon.

Afterwards, they walked outside to greet the fans, happy and talkative and all smiley for photos. They stayed outside until the sun went away, turning the temperature positively frigid and signaling their need to go back upstairs. Liam and Harry were probably wondering where the hell they all were. _Tonight was the night. Tonight was the night._

Louis couldn’t accurately explain how much he was looking forward to this. He hadn’t had sex with Harry in ages, hadn’t done anything with the others in the room in twice as long, and hadn’t done anything with Niall present _ever_. To get rid of his excess energy, he ran to the lift and spent the entire ascension jumping around, using his hands to make beats on the walls and on the back of Zayn’s head.

Once off the lift, Louis and Zayn raced one another down the hall, giggling like little boys because no one else was occupying the entire level they were on and they really couldn’t keep their enthusiasm to themselves any longer. Louis made it to the door first, and he used his elbow to block Zayn’s attempts to open it, cackling. Barging inside, Louis switched on the light, ran to the large bed, and jumped onto it. Zayn quickly followed suit. They both settled their body weight onto their knees and bounced atop the mattress happily.

“Hazza!” Louis called to the empty room. He waited a few moments before trying again. “ _Haaaazza_!”

Zayn looked around. “ _Leeyum_!”

Louis shrugged. “Hm. Guess we’re alone.”

“Guess so,” Zayn replied, a little out of breath.

When he finally settled down from bouncing on the mattress, Louis’ eyes sparkled as he complimented, “Mm, you look good today, Z. With your new haircut and all. Don’t think I told you earlier.”

Zayn smiled and ran a hand through his hair. “Thanks, mate. You look good, too.”

Louis grinned. He and Zayn were both progressively getting closer to one another on the bed, walking forward on their knees until they were facing each other, legs brushing.

Louis’ eyes twinkled. “You think I look good?”

“Yeah, man,” Zayn said, beaming largely back at Louis. “Look brilliant today.”

Both of them touched one another’s necks with light, gentle fingers, and for a while they just stared at each other with crinkly eyes, cold hands quickly absorbing warmth from each other’s skin. Zayn and Louis were still somewhat smiling as they leaned forward and pressed mouths together, soft and playful, breathlessly giggling while sliding their lips together for the first time in seemingly forever.

They kissed _happily_ , satisfied with just rubbing lips together because it felt so good for both of them to do this again after going so long without it. For several moments they just tasted each other’s mouths and tickled each other’s skin until Louis backed away for some air.

Keeping his hands around Zayn’s neck, Louis smacked his lips and commented, “You taste like sugar.”

Zayn ran his tongue along his bottom lip and shrugged. “Must’ve been one of those drinks from earlier.”

Louis scrunched up his face but nonetheless moved it closer to Zayn once more. It seemed a bit wrong to be kissing Zayn with no one else around, but Louis told himself it was allowable. Innocent. He pressed his mouth to Zayn’s again and let himself fall into the sensation.

From where he was stood by the door, Niall shifted a bit. He’d followed the boys inside, but he wasn’t sure if they actually remembered his presence anymore. He felt strange, like he wasn’t prepared for how suddenly intimate things were already getting between Zayn and Louis. Like maybe he was intruding.

But he couldn’t turn away.

Watching encaptivated, Niall could see Louis’ and Zayn’s mouths part and their tongue-tips just barely flick together before they truly began making out. He could tell that Louis’ hand was holding onto Zayn’s neck with more pressure than before, and he felt even stranger upon witnessing the comfort with which they were touching each other so familiarly like that. A peculiar thought crossed his mind that he wished he knew what that was like—having someone else touch him with such…certainty.

When Zayn put Louis’ entire tongue-tip in his mouth and sucked it, Louis let out his first sexual noise yet, a little whimper that was relatively quiet yet seemed so vivid in the otherwise silent room. Niall gulped. So. This was happening. He was abruptly becoming too hot, so he shrugged off his jacket and let it fall to the floor.

Suddenly, Zayn opened his eyes and peeked to the side, detaching his mouth from Louis. When he saw Niall, he softly smiled and motioned to all the free space on the bed with his hand. With his other hand, he wiped his mouth before suggesting, “You can sit with us if you want to, you know…King size bed.”

Niall had been so quiet, Louis had forgotten he was even there. “Yeah, stop standing by the door looking weird, Niall. Come up here with us,” Louis urged.

Niall’s face looked unsure—almost like _yes_ , he _definitely_ wanted to get closer, and _no_ , maybe he shouldn’t, both at the same time.

Truthfully, he thought it’d be best to stay distant from the pair. For now, at least. The nerves he’d felt this morning were nothing compared to this. Every other time he’d talked about doing this, watching everyone else _do their thing_ , he’d been sort of drunk. Now he could already hear his own heartbeat in his ears and he was fighting the compulsion to chew on his nails.

Of course, it was _his_ idea to do this. He was the very one who brought up watching everyone else in the first place. And he wasn’t having second thoughts whatsoever. He just wasn’t prepared for how much he’d be…affected by actually seeing this. In a good-intriguing-very, very horny kind of way.

“I’m okay here,” Niall answered in what he hoped was a casual tone, shifting his weight from foot-to-foot.

“Oh, come on,” Louis insisted. “Bed’s huge.”

Niall took a deep breath. Zayn and Louis were both smiling at him in an almost indulgent way, their excitement clearly displayed on their faces. So, what the hell. Niall fought back a smile and stepped forward almost involuntarily. “All right…”

Pointing to the pillows behind Zayn and Louis, Niall walked to the bed and awkwardly sat down in the middle of it, keeping his eyes trained on the bedsheets. With a few pillows behind his back, he reclined against the headboard and stretched out his legs. He folded his hands in his lap and told himself to try to act normal.

He was pretty sure he failed.

Looking on at poor Niall’s graceless body language, Louis blatantly laughed out loud while Zayn’s face was more sympathetic.

“You okay?” asked Zayn.

Niall nodded, a nervous heat spreading across his cheeks before he finally laughed out loud, too. He shook his head at himself. “Er, this is just new, is all. Seeing you two like this. Think I’m gonna need a minute ‘fore I get used to it.”

Zayn smiled. “Oh, this is nothing, mate.”

“Yeah, this is just an appetizer,” Louis added on, chuckling. Niall remained silent.

“…You sure you’re gonna be okay with this?” Zayn asked. He was almost positive Niall had no idea what he was about to get himself into.

“Yeah,” Niall answered, and of course his voice had to crack right at that moment. It hadn’t done that in _years_. “Jesus Christ,” he swore angrily at himself. “ _Yes_. I’m okay. This is just…sudden. I’m okay.”

Zayn looked on at Niall, silently communicating his worry with his eyes. He always felt some sort of protectiveness over Niall for some reason, like Niall’s comfort was his responsibility. When Louis cleared his throat, Zayn pushed Niall out of his head for a moment. Niall said he was all right, so Zayn believed him. Zayn turned his head to look at Louis, lips twitched up at the sides.

“Okay, _Impatient_ ,” Zayn told Louis, chuckling as he leaned into another kiss. He kept it mostly closed-mouthed to start out with this time, small little tastes that did nothing but plump up his and Louis’ lips, but inevitably, Louis beckoned for more by delicately sticking out his tongue and licking Zayn’s upper lip.

Zayn and Louis both had been lazily resting back on their haunches, but as their kiss grew in passion and their hands began to move from just their necks to now their chests and stomachs and backs and biceps, they sat up on their knees to match torsos together. Now they could clearly feel one another’s growing hardness, and now their happy giggles were quickly turning into pleased little mewls. Niall had never heard anything remotely close to those sounds escape either of their mouths before.

Once Niall saw Zayn’s fingertips travel down to the top of Louis’ jeans and begin to lightly brush there, his mouth dropped open and he couldn’t help but disrupt the moment. “They’re—they’re really fine with you two doing this without them here? I thought you said—”

“It’s just kissing,” Zayn said nonchalantly before taking off his own shirt and then the white shirt underneath. (Like this morning, Niall stared at Zayn’s chest. Niall’d seen Zayn shirtless a million times, but now he was really _seeing_ him. Zayn was thin, but it worked for him, like he was _delicate_ almost—graceful—but his features were _dark_ still, with his defined eyebrows curving above the most perfect smoldering eyes, framed by just-as-shady eyelashes, all surrounded by smooth, tan skin…and then there was his flawless bone structure and that perfect jawline, and Niall needed to stop staring.)

“Just lads kissing lads,” Louis affirmed breezily, tilting his head upwards with his lips attractively pursed.

Zayn grinned before leaning in and pulling Louis’ hoodie up and off. “Kissing amongst mates.”

“Fun kissing,” Louis finished just as Zayn’s mouth met his once more. Louis broke away only to quickly remove his undershirt, and just after he tossed it to the side and put his hands to Zayn’s hips, molding his torso and legs as close as possible to Zayn’s as Zayn began to rut forward, the door quickly opened.

Zayn and Louis froze as Harry and Liam cluelessly strode inside, chatting loudly and looking irresistible as hell. Once realizing what was happening, Harry and Liam stared straight ahead at the bed and paused, and Niall couldn’t stop the laugh that fell from his mouth when both Zayn and Louis rapidly removed their hands from one another, their arses immediately dropping backwards to rest on their calves again.

Harry just raised his eyebrows as he assessed the scene. “We really gonna start out like this, Lou?” he asked, though without any real bite. “Breaking the rules already?”

Louis felt only a little guilty. He smiled cheekily, both rows of teeth showing, wrinkles by his eyes. “It’s my birthday. I was getting birthday kisses.”

“To sweeten you up for birthday spankings, perhaps?” Harry asked without looking at Louis, paying more mind to the bags of shopping he was currently setting in a nearby closet.

Louis ignored that statement and craned his neck to look at the multiple bags. “What’s all that, then? I thought you two weren’t leaving the hotel.”

Harry kicked off his boots and closed the closet door. “’S nothing that concerns you now.”

Louis’ face was still happy. “Is it for my birthday?”

“Your birthday isn’t even for another week,” Zayn commented as he tilted his neck to the side and let Liam begin nibbling there from behind.

Liam was relatively nonplussed at catching Zayn and Louis just now, especially because it was openly discussed that this _was_ what everyone would be doing tonight, but he definitely wanted Zayn’s attention to shift more to _him_. For the past few weeks, he’d been feeling a more-than-normal concern over Zayn’s happiness and security, like he wanted to constantly touch him in some way, wrap his arms around him and squeeze squeeze squeeze. It was a shame, really, that they hadn’t gotten to be properly intimate in so long. Tonight Liam would make up for that.

Liam had crawled on the bed until his upper body was nestled behind Zayn’s back, until Zayn’s little hips snuggled right in between his wide-spread thighs. At the feeling of having his neck being suddenly kissed and adored, Zayn pushed his arse further back into Liam’s crotch and happily sighed when Liam engulfed him with his warm, strong arms. The fabric of Liam’s sweatshirt felt nice against Zayn’s bare skin.

He’d showered; Zayn could smell it. There was probably some kind of ritzy locker room attached to the downstairs gym. Zayn took a deep whiff of the air, all at once smelling shampoo and laundry detergent and cologne in a subtle and nice smell of _Liam_ , and Zayn was content.

Louis scooted to the right side of the bed, away from Liam, Zayn, and Niall. His dangling legs swung about in front of him as Harry swayed cock-first to the bed. “Same thing,” Louis said. “It’s my birth month. It’s an entire month of festivities.”

“And what makes you think I’ll give you anything at all after walking in on you and Zayn without me here?” Harry asked while making a show of slowly removing his belt.

Louis pouted exaggeratedly, but his demeanor changed to something different—something kind of anticipatory—when Harry held out his belt and looked to Louis with it dangling from his fingers. Louis’ legs stopped moving.

Harry ended up just dropping the belt on the carpet and boldly staring at Louis after it clanked to the ground. Louis’ Adam’s apple jumped in his throat, and his mouth fell open.

“It’s okay, Niall,” Zayn chuckled at the expression on Niall’s face. “This is what you can expect. They do this shit all the time.”

“Oh, hey, Niall,” Liam said, lifting his face from Zayn’s neck to greet the other boy.

Harry turned his attention over to Niall, too, and acknowledged him with a smile. “Oops, didn’t mean to ignore you. All right?”

Niall just nodded. “Fine.”

“You sure?” Liam asked. Niall was still just stiffly lying there in the middle of the bed, leaning back on some pillows.

“I think he’s trying to take it all in,” Zayn answered his boyfriend.

“I’ve told you, _relax_ ,” Louis said, turning his head around to speak to Niall. “It’s just us.”

Niall held up his hands and widened his eyes at the four curious faces watching him. “I said I’m fine, lads.”

“You look petrified,” Zayn said gently. “We don’t have to do anything. We could just chill.”

In exasperation, Niall reminded everybody, “This was my fucking idea, you know. I’ve told you, it’s just new. I’m _fine_.”

Louis stared for just a moment longer before shrugging and turning his head back around to look up at Harry again. “Maybe he likes to be ignored,” he whispered. “Maybe that’s his thing.”

Harry smirked at Louis, shirtless and pretty. His tight jeans molded to his hips and thighs, and every single detail was under Harry’s examination, from the visible skin of Louis’ upper body to the long expanses of his legs under their thin, denim veneer. It really was amazing how pleasing Louis’ body was. Whereas Harry still had actual love-handles, Louis’ hips had genuine _curves_. It was beautiful.

“These must be new,” Harry commented, referring to Louis’ jeans, as he reached out and brushed Louis’ knee. “They look good on you.”

Louis simpered and rolled over onto his front, wiggling his hips a bit as he crawled back up the bed and rested flat on his stomach. He was now lying more or less directly next to Niall—so close their bodies touched—but he didn’t mind. On the contrary, he grabbed Niall’s calf with his left arm and, being careful of his knee, hugged it to himself.

“Mm, look at that _arse_ ,” Harry crudely whispered down to Louis. He grabbed out with both hands and, with his fingers splayed widely along the expanse of the high arc there, Harry asked, “You know how long I’ve waited to touch you like this again?”

Louis smiled against the duvet under his cheek. “Too long.”

“Too long,” Harry agreed. He put one knee on the bed, crouched forward, and reached around Louis’ front. He felt about for a few seconds before unfastening Louis’ jeans and sliding them down.

 _And_ — _okay, then_ , thought Niall. _This really_ was _happening. Like, now. No beating-around-the-bush at all._

Zayn met Louis’ eyes, and the two smiled at each other. Louis flicked his head, motioning to Harry, and laughed to Zayn, “’E’s certainly not wasting any time, yeah?”

As Harry continued peeling off Louis’ jeans, Louis kicked his legs to help the process along. Zayn watched as Louis’ dark boxer-briefs became visible, and, still on his knees, Zayn finally turned around to face Liam. Because Liam had essentially just been wetly kissing Zayn’s neck, his lips were slick with saliva as Zayn quickly leaned forward to press his mouth there.

Liam’s hands moved to Zayn’s bare shoulders, caressing up and down the tops of his arms. He pushed his tongue forward and forced Zayn’s mouth open, and Zayn began kissing him back in that sweet, sweet way he always did, almost too sweet for how suddenly aggressive Liam felt. When Zayn held onto Liam’s hoodie, bunching up the cotton in his tight fists, Liam’s fingers fumbled to unbutton Zayn’s jeans before tugging down the zipper and then squeezing the hard angles of his newly-exposed hips.

“You’re the one who wasn’t wasting any time,” Harry muttered to Louis after he’d thrown Louis’ jeans carelessly to the floor. “Exactly what were you doing when Liam and I walked in here, again?”

“Snogging,” Louis answered lightly. He hummed when Harry began caressing his arse again, this time over a much-thinner fabric. “ _Mmm_. Just snogging, waiting for you to get here.”

“You were grinding on each other’s thighs, more like.”

Niall’s eyes darted between the two couples. He felt Louis’ fingers minutely squeeze his leg as Harry kept whispering stuff to him, then he watched as Harry ran his hands up and down the backs of Louis’ legs, almost like he was just indulgently feeling their softness. Then, noticing the lack of hair on Louis’ legs, Niall figured that was exactly what Harry was doing.

Niall turned his attention to Zayn and Liam, who were already passionately snogging though Liam had basically _just_ walked in the room. Liam moved his mouth hard against Zayn’s and Zayn pushed up against him like he wanted to glue himself there, pulling Liam closer at the same time. No one was paying attention to Niall, so he reached down atop his jeans and pressed down on his dick with the back of his hand in order to keep the achy, tingling feeling that was beginning to develop there at bay. He took a deep, shuddery breath. He could do this.

“Liam,” Zayn breathed, touching and squeezing the back of Liam’s neck, feeling the short hair there in front of the hood of his sweatshirt. Zayn’s pupils were already blown.

Liam spoke into Zayn’s mouth, his hands still tickling Zayn’s hips and stomach. “Grinding on his leg, huh?”

Zayn’s eyes flittered open. He didn’t answer. A small smile flashed along his lips before he opened his mouth to kiss Liam again, but Liam backed away, removing all contact with Zayn.

Zayn looked betrayed, but Liam’s eyes were cheeky. He shifted on the bed to sit next to where Niall was resting, and, crooking his index finger once he was leaning back on some pillows, he coaxed, “Come here.”

Zayn quickly moved to straddle Liam’s waist, but Liam stopped him mid-action by motioning to Zayn’s jeans. “Take those off first.”

As his jeans were already undone, Zayn found it quite easy to rid himself of the article. Afterwards, he eagerly began to climb onto Liam’s lap again, but, once more, Liam stopped him. “Pants, as well.”

Zayn paused. Liam was still completely clothed, still wearing his lazy joggers and his hoodie despite the warm room, but Zayn shrugged. “Well, all right, then.”

Liam just winked.

With his fingers on the waistband of his white briefs, Zayn brought his eyes up to Liam and then over to Niall. Niall had seen him naked before, of course; he’d seen _all_ of them without clothes on at some point or another. It was just always through an opaque layer of water as they skinny-dipped, however. Or in brief flashes before or after showering. Or (particularly in Harry’s case) whilst somebody strolled around the house on idle Sunday mornings. Niall had never seen any of them naked and _hard_ before. At least not on purpose.

Zayn smirked and slid his underwear off, meeting Niall’s eyes again only a moment before finally moving to sit in Liam’s waiting lap. A trail of liquid smeared from Zayn’s cock onto Liam’s hoodie as Liam put two hands on Zayn’s arse and pulled him in closer.

Under Harry’s insistent groping, Louis watched Zayn straddle Liam and curve his body as Liam’s fierce mouth again began to claim Zayn’s, and Louis twitched and wiggled his bum. He wanted to be naked, too.

Harry gave up on trying to find the smoothest patch of Louis’ skin (it was impossible; everything was so, so, so smooth) and soundlessly attended to his silent wish instead. After Harry slid Louis’ underwear down his thighs, calves, and finally out of his feet, Louis sighed. He was happy. This was how he loved to be—bare and on display for Harry.

Something about the content way Louis breathed, something about how his hands were intermittently clasping Niall’s thin calves in response to just merely being touched, made Harry want to ruin him. And, oh, how he planned to.

Moving himself so that one knee now rested in between Louis’ outstretched legs, Harry leaned forward and put his index and middle fingers together in front of Louis’ mouth.

“Open up and suck. Gonna stretch you out.”

Louis’ eyes darted from Harry’s long fingers to Harry’s face, and he smiled. “You’re not to be arsed with foreplay tonight at all, then, are you?”

“Should I mention again,” Harry said as he forced his fingers inside Louis’ mouth, “that you and Zayn were _humping_ each other when we walked in here.” Harry dragged his fingers up and down Louis’ tongue, feeling saliva pool up inside Louis’ mouth. “I’d say we can skip the foreplay, sweetheart.”

Louis’ cheekbones were sharp as he began to genuinely suck Harry’s fingers. He circled his tongue around them a few times and then moaned, and Harry felt the vibration against his hand before he removed it from Louis’ mouth and trailed it down Louis’ spine. 

With a free hand spreading open the meat of Louis’ arse, Harry brought his wet fingers down to Louis’ rim, circling there before preparing to press in. He could already hear the noises Louis was about to make, was anticipating each and every one, but Louis suddenly wouldn’t stop squirming.

Harry lifted his eyes from Louis’ arse to his face. He wanted to restrain him. Spank him, maybe. “Stay still, Louis. I’ll only ask you once.”

“Well, you gotta get ‘em more wet than _that_ , don’t you think?” Louis asked at feeling the barely-damp prodding against his arsehole. “It’s been a while, Harry, and you know how tight I am. You’re gonna have to open me up real good, aren’t you?”

Harry’s mouth slackened. He _definitely_ wanted to spank Louis now. “You’re such a little shit,” he said instead. He stared at Louis for a few seconds, and Louis just stared back, biting his lip. He knew Harry probably wouldn’t do anything since Niall was there on the bed, and he wondered what was going on in Harry’s head. Maybe Harry would change his mind and spank him, anyway. Enticingly, Louis rolled his body, curved it alluringly like a canvas to paint red. He wondered how much he could get away with tonight.

“I know a better way to get you wet,” Harry finally murmured. With his chin, he motioned to the headboard. “Budge up.”

Louis’ eyes met Niall’s as he looked at the top of the bed. Niall was chewing on his thumbnail. Louis looked back to Harry.

“You gonna lick me?”

“Mhm.”

 _Yes_. Instead of getting punished for his sassiness, he was getting _rewarded_. Louis let go of Niall’s leg at once and crawled forward on his belly, immediately snuggling up next to Niall and throwing his left arm around his chest.  Niall jerked a bit at the touch, but it was barely noticeable before he relaxed and smiled at Louis, even putting a hand on top the arm wrapped round his middle.

Louis smiled back at Niall, excitement buzzing through his veins. “You upset that we didn’t do this together for your birthday, Niall?” he asked as he pressed his torso forward into the bed, rutting forward a few times.

“Stop, Louis,” Harry commanded. Louis felt the bed rise and fall as Harry shifted behind him, ultimately placing his hands on each of Louis’ hips to stop his movements. Harry dropped his head to just a few inches above Louis’ arse, and his breath tickled the skin there. Louis sighed.

Niall swallowed. He felt like he’d been transported to another universe, an alternate plane of existence. He didn’t know his mates could be so… _hot_.

His birthday didn’t seem like it had been so far away from this very moment, but really, it was. Back then—only a few months ago—he had no clue that the lads even got together and did this kind of stuff. If someone could’ve magically time-traveled to September and informed him of this fact, he never would’ve believed it. And he certainly never would’ve believed it would be this fucking intense. _Or_ that he’d be sat here _watching_ it, and that everybody would be cool with that.

Niall looked to his right again where Liam and Zayn had been endlessly snogging. Liam was now shirtless, and Zayn’s hands were on the waistband of his joggers, frantically trying to pull them down. Liam wouldn’t let him.

Zayn looked annoyed. “What are you doing?” he breathed out. He pulled at Liam’s joggers again.

Without answering, Liam lifted Zayn and moved him so that instead of straddling his waist, he was now straddling just his thigh. Liam could tell from Zayn’s face that he didn’t much fancy the new position, but when he jolted his pelvis up so that his thick leg brushed against Zayn’s cock, Zayn moaned at the softness of the fabric there.

Still, Zayn was confused. He tugged at Liam’s waistband again, relentlessly determined to get Liam naked, to feel every bit of his skin against his own, covering him, melting to him.

Liam’s hands covered Zayn’s and overpowered them. “Ride my leg,” he said.

Zayn cocked his head. Surely he hadn’t heard correctly. “What?”

“Want you to ride my leg,” Liam explained.

Zayn looked down between his legs at the soft, grey cotton underneath him. To the side, he saw the long line of Liam’s hard cock resting the other way, its size severe, its shape mouth-watering. Zayn wanted it to be inside him.

“You were desperate enough to do it to Louis’,” Liam continued while Zayn continued to heavily breathe, his head now looking at his own dripping cock. “Want to watch you do it on mine. Til you come.”

A small part of Zayn thought it would be weird to do that, thought about shying away and shaking his head at Liam’s request. After all, he hadn’t been _riding_ Louis’ leg earlier at all; he had just barely rubbed up against it, if anything. But the _other_ part of Zayn, the horny and filthy part of Zayn that Zayn was still trying to learn to embrace, was already preparing to tighten his muscles and roll his hips forward, to get himself off on Liam’s leg and look gorgeous while doing it. All for Liam.

Keeping one hand soft and light on Zayn’s hip, Liam put his other hand under Zayn’s chin and lifted it. Concern flashed in Liam’s eyes for just a moment, replaced again by unhidden desire at whatever he saw on Zayn’s face. “Can you do that?”

“I-yes,” Zayn managed, nodding his head before dropping it again. Arousal hit him hard from the way Liam was looking at him, and he had to look away.

Liam moved his hand from Zayn’s chin to Zayn’s hair, threading his fingers through the dark strands to angle Zayn’s head back up. He licked his lips. He could easily apply just a bit of pressure to Zayn’s head to beckon him forward for another never-ending kiss, but he didn’t. Instead, he jutted his leg upwards again to signal for Zayn to start whenever he was ready, and Zayn’s breath was shuddery as he kept his eyes trained on Liam and made his first uncertain movements forward.

Zayn moved and then he moved again. Sadly, he realized this wouldn’t work. His cock wouldn’t make truly pleasurable contact with Liam’s leg unless he held it down with one hand or something, and then he worried that that would hurt more than it would feel good. Again, Zayn dropped his head.

“Get comfortable,” Liam said gently. “You can move if you have to.”

Nodding, Zayn closed his eyes and instinctually shifted his body into an easier position for him. Instead of straddling Liam’s leg now, he more or less rested horizontally atop it now, shimmying his way down until his cock now was on top of Liam’s calf.

After settling his head in Liam’s lap and feeling Liam’s cock by his cheek, Zayn tilted his head upwards. “Is this okay?”

Though Liam had really wanted to actually _see_ Zayn’s cock, wanted to be able to watch him come, Liam nodded and carted his fingers through Zayn’s hair again. “Feel good?”

Zayn closed his eyes and nodded, the movement causing Liam’s cock to throb even more, but Liam forced his hips to stay still. As he watched Zayn’s arse rise and fall experimentally and then with a little more sureness, his hold on Zayn’s hair tightened, exactly like the tight, springy feeling inside his stomach.

Meanwhile, Harry was puling Louis’ arse cheeks apart as far apart as they’d go and was blowing warm air there, watching the little movements it caused Louis’ hole to make. It was driving Louis fucking mad, and every time he’d try to writhe or lift his hips up, Harry dug his fingernails into Louis’ skin to stop him.

Louis moved closer to Niall and tucked his head in the crook of Niall’s arm, prompting Niall to open it. “Fucking hell, Harry, you tryin’ to kill me? Get on with it,” he whined.

Right after Louis stopped feeling the little tufts of air on his hole, he heard Harry ask, “What’s the attitude about, love?”

Louis smiled against Niall’s chest. “I’m being my normal, adorable self.”

Harry murmured, “Being bossy to me is normal?”

“Seems I’ve forgotten all my manners. Maybe I need to be reminded.” Louis’ quiet voice was melodic.

Again, Harry squeezed Louis’ arse and dug his fingernails in deep. “Christ, the things I want to fucking do to you…”

Louis smiled. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry replied darkly, still enchanted by Louis’ rim and nothing else. How it fluttered like it was dying to be touched. Opened. Filled. _Oh, to hell with it_ —Harry slapped Louis’ arse so quickly, Louis literally squeaked, and then his smile blissfully slackened.

“I’ll remind you of your manners, baby.” Harry ran his index finger all the way down Louis’ crack, over his arsehole and down to the fleshy skin of his balls, then back up again. He tapped there a few times with the pad of his finger. “Ask to come and just maybe I’ll let you, yeah?”

Louis roughly swallowed and just nodded into Niall’s jumper, a tiny whimper escaping his parted lips at the exact moment Harry dove his head down and started to positively bathe Louis’ arsehole with wide, long licks of his tongue—no preamble at all.

Niall put his arm around Louis, his hand holding Louis’ shoulder while Harry began to rim him. Louis kept wiggling, trying to twist up and actually spoon Niall from the side, to maybe lay a leg over Niall’s stomach to open himself up more, but Harry kept pushing down Louis’ hips with his two large hands. All Louis could achieve was to stay flat on his stomach with his head on Niall’s chest, using it as a pillow, holding Niall close to himself to anchor his body.

Obviously, Niall had seen Louis naked a fair share of times, just like they all had. As it so happened with blokes, there had been accidental flashes, too many pints, whatever—but _holy lord_ , Niall had never really realized exactly how _big_ Louis’ arse was. Big might not even be the correct word to use to describe it, Niall thought. Harry’s nose was literally _buried_ in between Louis’ arsecheeks, and Niall could only guess what his lips were doing to Louis. What his _tongue_ was doing.

Niall took in the flush of Louis’ skin. Louis’ skin, especially his cheeks, had turned a brilliant pink color. Looking over at the other pair, Niall noticed that Zayn was red-faced as well, little beads of sweat forming along his hairline as he continued to get himself off on Liam’s calf.

Everyone was exerting themselves, and it was—it was a lot. It had seemingly come out of nowhere, but everybody was horny as shit, dark and carnal and—and so damn _attractive_.

“You look like you’re about to cry, mate,” Niall whispered softly in awe, watching Louis’ face twist up in pleasure as the seconds went by. He was starting to make odd noises, and Harry had only just begun whatever he was doing.

Louis’ eyes were closed. “I might,” he let out with a quiver.

Louis wouldn’t really—not this early on—but still, he couldn’t deny how fucking _good_ it already felt. Harry was ruthless, and Louis loved it.

“Does that—that really feels that good?” Niall asked incredulously.  Everything was a whisper now. Niall’s eyes trailed to Harry’s face to try to better see what Harry was doing, but he couldn’t see much. He lifted his eyes back up to Louis.

Louis roughly swallowed and just nodded, a tiny whimper escaping his parted lips. Louis _whimpering_ was something Niall never imagined hearing before.

Niall squeezed on his cock, not even remembering the moment his hand had undone his zipper, reached inside, and attached itself to the thing, but here he was, almost jerking it but not quite, watching one of his mates _licking_ his other mate’s arsehole, then turning his head and watching another friend hump his other friend’s leg like a dog.

Jesus fucking Christ—Niall’s hand definitely was moving up and down now. He couldn’t help it. He was—he was _holding_ Louis, just about, and Louis was definitely holding him, and Louis seemed to get _comfort_ from that, and—and shit—Zayn’s hands began roaming around, and one of them blindly felt out to the right until it made contact with Niall’s arm. Niall felt Zayn clutch there, and he momentarily froze. Zayn’s hand was really, _really_ close to Niall’s cock. He just had to move it down a few inches and he’d be squeezing _it_ instead of his forearm.

This was suddenly turning out to be much, much more than what he’d had in mind, but, scanning his eyes around the bed and seeing what everyone was doing so close to him, Niall couldn’t really complain. This really wasn’t what he was expecting, but—but, no, he couldn’t complain at all.

Zayn’s hips moved continuously up and down, his body all contorted. Liam felt the press of Zayn’s cock on his shin where it was jabbing forward and then back again. He felt the wet, dank heat of Zayn’s loud panting on his own lap. He tried not to sound out when Zayn shoved his face further into his lap, seeking out Liam’s cock with his mouth, twisting his body in sinuous ways, one hand splayed out to the side and gripping Niall’s skin, the other holding onto Liam’s other leg.

Liam’s normally-polite cadence was scratchy with arousal as he tried not to lose control. His hands were now pulling at Zayn’s hair. “You look. So good.”

Something snapped inside Zayn then, and he blinked open his eyes. Looking dazed, he lifted his head and then his upper body, shaking Liam’s fingers out of his hair as he sat a bit more upright. He kept his eyes trained to Liam’s as he slowed his movements to more of a slow grind, yet his hand never lost contact with Niall, like he was using him for leverage. Zayn and Liam kept staring at each other as Zayn scooted a bit to the side, taking Liam’s leg with him until he was directly next to Niall.

Zayn’s face was soft like it always got when he was about to come soon, and he broke eye contact with Liam in order to look at Niall. Niall’s mouth was slack, and he was clearly wanking now, proper with it. Looking up at Zayn, Niall gulped when Zayn’s hand moved from his forearm in order to unfasten the button of his jeans and shove them down his hips.

“Zayn,” Niall breathed, letting go of himself to stare at what Zayn was doing. “What…what?”

Niall’s dick was now sticking straight up through the little hole in his boxers, and when Zayn shoved those down, too, completely exposing Niall, Zayn’s hand covered Niall’s and guided it back to his cock.

“Z-Zayn,” Niall said again, fucking shuddering as his hand wrapped around his shaft again, this time with Zayn’s hand covering it still. Holy shit.

Zayn resumed his own movements atop Liam’s leg, and Niall saw that they’d turned dark grey where Zayn had been grinding, like they’d already become soaked from Zayn’s cock, and Zayn hadn’t even come yet.

“Does it feel good?”

Niall nodded.

“Then don’t hide it,” Zayn breathed. “Keep doing it.”

Zayn didn’t say anything more, just stared at Niall’s cock until Niall eventually began pumping it again, tentatively, still watching Zayn’s hips. Then Niall sped up, feeling Zayn hold on a little more firmly atop his hand, squeezing, just as Louis’ hands pawed erratically around Niall’s chest and stomach in response to all the pleasure Harry was giving _him_.

Harry’s mouth was skilled in a way that made no sense. He hadn’t even penetrated Louis yet, not with fingers or with his tongue, but he was starting to make progress. Just a few more firm wetting motions around the entire rim, then some teasing flutters, quick and light, and Harry’d be ready to eat out Louis proper messy, get him loose as shit and have him rut back on Harry’s tongue tip.

Louis loved when Harry got sloppy with licking him, when it was almost on the edge of too much spit. A fuzzy heat had taken over Louis’ brain, and he no longer cared how he sounded as Harry’s mouth did things to him that made him feel like he didn’t belong in his body anymore. Louis could feel Niall’s eyes on him, and he loved it. Loved being watched. He moaned even louder as Harry’s blunt and slick finger pressed at his entrance and easily slid inside.

“ _Yessss_ …”

Louis was sure that Harry would tease him, would drag this out even more, but then he felt Harry’s mouth back off as a second finger of Harry’s joined the first, equally slick like he’d just stuck them all in his mouth to moisten, and then almost immediately afterwards, a third.

Louis tensed. It burned. Oh, God, it burned. Even with how thoroughly slimy Harry had gotten him, it still ached, but _shit_ , the ache was so good. “Ah, ah, _ohhh_ ,” he moaned, biting at Niall’s sweater underneath his face.

Feeling resistance despite how loose he’d tried to make Louis with his mouth, Harry kept his fingers as still as he could. They weren’t even in to the second knuckle yet. Harry had moved his face to the side and rested it on Louis’ arsecheek, so close he could still reach out his long tongue and lick Louis, so he did. With his fingers stuffed in Louis, Harry licked around the brown-pink of Louis’ rim, obsessed with lapping there, flicking there from time to time, and Louis shuddered, both bodily and verbally.

Harry’s voice was low. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Louis answered shakily. He relaxed into the stretch and stuck his arse up, feeling the movement put a tiny bit more of Harry’s fingers inside him. He wanted it all. He could take it, he could take it. It just had been a while.

So—slowly, Harry pushed inwards and began spreading his fingers out, stretching Louis out to the point where it almost felt scorching. Louis squeezed Niall’s chest with his tiny hand, punching a pillow with his other one before scrunching it up in his fist.

Louis was practically gargling, practically _drooling_ on Niall because in addition to the sensation of Harry starting to finger-fuck his arse, he noticed in his peripheral vision that Zayn was aiding Niall with jerking off, and Niall’s hips were jumping as the two hands on his thick dick rhythmically stroked up and down together. And shit, Niall was starting to make barely audible cut-off noises in his throat, and normally-quiet Liam was groaning, too, just from watching Zayn, and Louis wanted to _come_.

“Ooh, fucking _shit_ , baby, _fuck_ , it’s so much, Harry.” Harry had given him so many fingers all at once. He was vaguely aware that his body was shivering, his muscles tightening and then relaxing again, over and over.

“ _Yeah_ ,” Harry agreed softly. He finally removed his face from Louis’ arse and focused just on fingering Louis now, watching his arsehole with a strange obsession. He wiped his mouth and chin with his free hand as his other hand very, very slowly worked Louis open. “You all right? You’re—you’re losing it up there, baby.”

Before Louis could explain that he was _very_ all right—he was only acting overwhelmed because, well, it was overwhelming—Zayn was  suddenly there beside him, leaning over Niall’s torso, lifting Louis’ face and kissing him with two hands firmly holding his head. Louis was so close to coming that he felt his cock drizzle—felt the drips running down his cockhead and onto his shaft, onto the duvet.

With his head craned upward now, Louis’ mouth moved automatically against Zayn’s, uncoordinatedly and sloppy, slurping and biting, teeth and whimpers, open-jawed and drool. Louis could come just from this.

Zayn wasn’t any better. Louis knew his orgasm-face and knew his body language before climaxing even better, and Zayn’s hips were gaining unbelievable speed, erratic because of the awkwardness of what he was rubbing against. Louis tried to back himself up onto Harry’s fingers to match Zayn’s speed—and the speed of Niall’s hand, now jerking himself off solo—but Harry wouldn’t let him. Louis backed his face away from Zayn and, panting, he made an unhappy noise.

Zayn, eyes droopy, turned his face to Niall. “Would it be cool if I kissed you?”

“Shit, Zayn—I—” he started, looking away, then quickly back to Zayn.

Whatever was displayed on Niall’s face gave Zayn permission, so in a second’s time, Zayn’s mouth moved to cover Niall’s. His hand on Louis’ face moved to Louis’ neck, the other one pushing Niall’s jumper up to his armpits, and then he pulled Louis’ head in closer to Niall’s face, too, until all three of their faces were together, touching. Louis’ and Zayn’s lips automatically began to move, but Niall was slow on the uptake. _What was going on._

Zayn had begun to groan, his mouth uncoordinated. When he backed away for air, it gave Louis the opportunity to cover Niall’s mouth entirely, and Louis found that he had complete control of the kiss, something he wasn’t that used to. Niall’s lips were small, soft and unpracticed and too wet. Louis bit them. An odd sound came from Niall’s throat.

“ _Harry_ ,” Louis whispered against Niall’s mouth. He felt Harry’s fingers completely buried inside him now, and felt an even bigger burn, like maybe Harry had added his pinkie, too. “ _Ah_ …”

Niall’s hand around Louis’ shoulder clutched and unclutched rhythmically, like there was so much happening that he had no way to channel it all, and then there was Zayn’s mouth again, and all three of their tongues were again sliding, sliding.

The kiss dragged on and on, past the point where Niall no longer cared about things like his dignity or about whether he was kissing okay like this or about the fact that _Louis_ and _Zayn_ were kissing him at the same time, or kissing him at all, or that he was fucking wanking to all of this madness. And shit—he was going to come. He couldn’t come yet. He couldn’t be the first to come. How could…?

He stopped the twisting of his wrist and painfully squeezed at himself before he let his hand move from that area entirely. Squeezing the exposed area of his stomach now, he pushed his head further back into the pillow behind him, breaking mouth-contact with Louis and Zayn as he groaned with the agony of having his cock throb in the air, untouched.

“I’m s-so fucking close,” Zayn backed away from Louis’ mouth to say.

At the absence of Zayn’s lips, Louis turned his face to kiss Niall properly again, sad that he’d left. He spoke into Niall’s mouth, “Then—oh, God—then do it, babe.”

So Zayn stopped looking at Niall and Louis then, completely focused on Liam and on his own pleasure, and he moved on Liam with true purpose now.

Knowing everyone was staring at him and only him now, Zayn was sure his face couldn’t get any hotter. Then Liam had to prove him wrong and say, “ _So pretty_ ,” and Zayn was suddenly on fire inside and out. He humped faster then, and faster, and then faster still, making noises too inappropriate to even call whimpers until he dropped his hands to the mattress and squeezed the sheets on either side of Liam’s leg as hard as he could.

With his body visibly tensed, he tightly squeezed his eyes shut and suddenly stopped moving altogether. He moaned, “ _I’m—I’m_ —” right before the strands of cum expelled out from his cockhead, some jumping forward on the blanket but most landing in a pool on Liam’s joggers.

Zayn’s mouth was agape as he slowly relaxed his body, his shoulders dropping dopily and his arse falling to the mattress. A few moments passed and Zayn finally lifted his head and smiled, chuckling just a little bit while reaching down to his dick to stroke the last few bits of semen out.

Harry wasn’t paying attention to anything but his fingers teasingly sliding in Louis’ arse. Louis smiled at Zayn, but it looked like a grimace. Niall looked like he’d just been injured, and Liam looked—looked _mean_ almost, like he was angry with Zayn for looking so perfect just now.

When Zayn finally came to his senses and crawled back up to Liam, Liam shook his sweatpants a bit and said, “Take them off now.”

Zayn had lost a majority of his urgency, however, and he just hummed and straddled Liam’s waist again, leaning forward in a long embrace. “That felt – surprisingly good,” Zayn slurred against Liam’s shoulder, his breathing heavy.

Liam didn’t respond at all.

Through the cotton of Liam’s joggers, Zayn felt Liam’s cock, still hard, but… Liam wasn’t talking. Zayn lifted his head from Liam’s shoulder. “Are…you okay?” Zayn finally asked, the unspoken question actually being— _Was—was I okay?_

Liam shook his head the slightest bit and stared at Zayn like he was a work of art, tracing random features of Zayn’s face with his thumb. “Perfect. You’re so fucking fit, baby,” he said, ending with a swallow. “So, so, so fucking fit.”

Zayn smiled. He leaned forward and licked a long stripe along Liam’s neck, and when he reached Liam’s ear, he whispered huskily, “Gonna let me make you come yet?”

“Oh, you’re going to,” Liam whispered back. “In due time.”

Niall was breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. It was hard to calm himself down when his arm was still around Louis, when Louis was still holding him and sounding like something Niall ordered on pay-per-view at midnight with the blinds drawn and a bottle of lotion next to his bed. But Niall wasn’t going to come yet. He _wasn’t_. With as much as he masturbated these days, he could handle this. He had self-control.

Harry’s fingers had worked themselves most of the way inside Louis, and finally, after he was satisfied that Louis could take it, he started pistoning them, shooting them in and out excruciatingly fast.

“That’s— _ahh!_ —gonna—make—me—come,” Louis breathed, each syllable being roughly fucked out of him. Little darts of pleasure stabbed at him on each inward drive from Harry’s fingertips, like Harry was tapping Louis’ prostate but not giving it enough attention to make him come yet. And fuck, he needed to come. Oh, God, he needed to fucking come. Watching Zayn’s face just now—God, it looked like it had felt so _good_ , and he wanted it, too. He wanted everyone to watch him feel good, _too_. He lifted his arse higher still, groaning incessantly onto Niall’s sweater, and it was then that he remembered.

Harry had told him he’d have to ask.

So he tried.

“Har— _ry_ —”

Harry’s fingers stopped moving in-and-out and dug around inside now, moving as if seeking for something, and Louis felt it in his stomach. He felt it everywhere.

 _“That’s it, that’s it,”_ Louis moaned. Wetness was in Louis’ eyes, on the corners there, misting his vision. “Oh—my— _fuck_ — _Harry_ —I?” Louis felt his legs begin to shake. His voice was not his own. “Can I come, can I come, _oh_ God, right there, it’s—I’m gonna—”

Suddenly, all of Harry’s fingers were gone, replaced with the cool feeling of nothing but air. In the abruptness of the sensation, Louis whimpered against Niall while flailing his arms, and he heard Zayn let out a pitying sound.

“No,” Harry answered unnecessarily.

Every muscle in Louis’ stomach clenched in rhythm with the sudden clasping of his hole. His body rolled left-to-right. “Wh-what— _what_? Why’d you _stop?_ ”

“Shhh…” Harry’s hands traced up and down Louis’ back. “Shh, shhh, shhh. Calm down, babe, calm down.”

Louis kicked his legs. What Harry had just done was torture. Pure, agonizing torture. “Harry, what the fuck,” he groaned out of clenched teeth. He had been _so close._

Harry just kept running his hands around Louis’ skin in soothing motions, again and again until Louis felt his body just barely back off from the edge of coming. He regained the sense to lift his head, and he blinked. Harry was teasing him in the worst way possible.

“Arseholes,” Louis groaned, hazily looking at Zayn and Niall and Harry and Liam. They all looked back at him in _amusement_ almost, like this was hilarious. They didn’t care he was still in fucking agony, his cock dripping _,_ his hole clenching on nothing. They were all mocking him, he was sure of it. But mostly Harry, who had cruelly decided to do this _tonight_ , when it was so close to Louis’ birthday. “All of you. You’re all arseholes—”

“It’s gonna be good for you this way, baby,” Harry corrected gently, his voice still smooth and soothing.

“It’ll be good if you go _back_ ,” Louis begged. He genuinely wailed, sounding like a child as his arse moved back and forth in the air against nothing. “Then go back, put them _back_ — _lick_ me, something.”

Harry ignored him.

“Why are you torturing me? It’s my _birthday_ —”

“I’m making it good for you,” Harry repeated. Harry’s hand dropped to Louis’ low-hanging balls, and he cradled them in his palm. Louis jerked a bit. “And guess what? I’m gonna do it again and _again_ …and _again_.”

Louis pushed his upper body up on his elbows so he could turn his head and search out Harry’s eyes. “Harry,” he pleaded, swallowing. “You can’t. Seriously. It hurts. That’s—that’s _torture_.”

Harry pleasantly smiled. “Sweet torture.  It’ll be worth it, baby, I promise. You know I’m gonna make it good for you.”

“Hmpf.”

“I…I do it all the time,” Niall admitted quietly.

“Do what?” Louis asked sullenly.

“…Make myself almost come and then stop,” Niall answered.

Louis slumped his upper-body down on the mattress and rested his head on Niall’s shoulder again. “Of course you do,” he muttered.

“It makes it last longer, really,” Niall continued. “Otherwise, I’d come in, like, ten seconds, and then it’d all be over.”

(At that, Harry gave Louis a look that meant, _see_? while he transferred the weight of each of Louis’ balls back and forth in his hand, massaging them as Louis hissed in a long breath.)

“It wouldn’t be over for me,” Louis eventually mumbled. Even with Harry still touching him, he could feel the brunt of his arousal start to leave, feel his cock droop a little and his mind clear out. He could formulate sentences now, at least. “I can get it up again, easy.”

Niall looked at Louis and quirked an eyebrow. That was basically unheard of for himself, which was why he had to completely remove all contact with his cock just now. But, since he did it so regularly, he reckoned it was just easier for him. He was somewhat used to the feeling, but here Louis was beside him having a strop and begging like a child.

“But I can,” Louis insisted. “C’mon, Harry, you know I can. I can come _so much_.” Louis decided to tempt Harry with his next words. “I can be good for you. I can be so good, Harry.”

“Nope,” Harry just said. He removed his hand from Louis and patted an arse cheek lightly. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Just relax and wait a bit, love. I’ll give you some more in just a minute.”

Zayn was glad that Liam wasn’t too big on orgasm-control this evening. Liam seemed more into making him come in odd ways, but Zayn couldn’t really say that he had a problem with that because what was new? He was feeling so fucking happy just sitting on Liam’s lap and hugging him that he just _smiled_ —at everyone. He just smiled non-stop. At Louis struggling to convince Harry to get him off, at _Liam_ —his hot and hard boyfriend who seemed unconcerned about his _own_ need to get off—and finally to Niall, who had been getting himself off but had, for some reason, stopped.

Zayn trailed his eyes down Niall’s body. There his cock lay, neglected and heavy on the bare skin of his lower belly. Niall was average-sized but thick, and Zayn noticed that he wasn’t quite as hard as he was just a few moments ago. He hoped everything was still okay with him.

Zayn touched Niall’s stomach, brushed his fingers lightly against the dark hair there. “Aren’t you hot? Wearing all these clothes?”

Niall licked his suddenly-dry lips. Truthfully, he was burning up, inside and out. Having four naked and semi-naked bodies surround him with their own growing body heat wasn’t helping. Zayn sensed his answer before Niall could reply and, shaking Niall’s sweater now, suggested, “Take it off, babe.”

Niall shifted to pull his jumper over his head, and Zayn heard his muffled voice say something like, “Why the hell not, I guess,” and, immediately, Zayn crawled off Liam’s lap to help pull down Niall’s jeans and boxers.

Once completely nude, Niall’s legs lifted of their own accord, subconsciously trying to hide himself. Zayn smiled. “You still okay?”

Niall stretched out his legs slowly, and he felt them make contact with both Louis’ and Liam’s legs beside him.

“Just tryin’ to lay off for a bit,” Niall said quietly, sort of embarrassed. He was entirely exposed here, mentally and physically. “Don’t wanna come yet...”

Zayn couldn’t stop staring at Niall’s dick. He looked at Liam’s face and then back to Niall’s cock, then to Liam’s face again. Zayn could tell that Liam had already read his mind because he smirked and nodded. Zayn’s dark lashes fluttered as he lifted his eyes to Niall and said lightly, “Oh…that sucks. I wanted to try something.”

“Um.” Niall moved a hand to his groin again, holding up his cock from the base so just the tip peeked out now. When Zayn licked his lips, Niall finally understood his meaning, but it still made no sense. “What?”

“Well…” Zayn began quietly, “it’s just—you’re here with us... And it’d be a shame if you didn’t get to feel good. Since—since we all have been feeling good, you know?”

Niall’s eyes were wide. He looked to everyone, from face to face. Zayn was the only one who had really “felt good.” Louis had finally lay belly-first on the bed again, resigned to listening to Harry, and Harry and Liam still had their bottoms on, even.

“It’s—okay. You don’t—Harry and Liam haven’t…felt good either,” he croaked.

“Oh, we will,” Liam and Harry both said at the same time. They met eyes, smiled, and simultaneously began taking off their trousers. Niall gulped.

Zayn had still been by Niall’s feet where he’d removed the last of Niall’s clothes, so he shimmied up the bed a bit. He moved nearer and nearer to Niall, crawling closer in between his legs, placing a hand on Niall’s thigh. _Holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit._

“You don’t—I—wasn’t really expecting—“

“Please?”

All Niall could do was reply with stuttery “ _um’s_ ” still, not imagining this happening _at all_. Zayn asking to—this was where Niall was in denial that he was even correct about what Zayn was getting at—suck his dick? This beautiful creature, his best mate, between his legs, _asking_ to suck his dick?

Sensing the warring expressions on Niall’s face, like he wanted it but didn’t want to _admit_ he wanted it, Louis tried to sway Niall from beside him. “Oh, Zayn’s great at giving head, Niall. Trust me.”

Okay, so there it was. Niall had been correct. Zayn wanted to…wanted to…he wanted to take those lips of his and...and open them…and put Niall _inside_ …

Zayn’s face was already there at Niall’s crotch. Niall fucking felt Zayn’s breath on his hand. More blood rushed from his head and down his body. His senses, already on overdrive, began to go haywire.

Zayn looked up with excited eyes. “Louis’ pretty good, too.”

“Thanks, mate,” Louis said, now lifting his body up with his hands. Louis looked at Niall with his eyebrows raised high, excited now, as well. “Ooooh, _Zayn_ , we both could do it.”

Niall’s face was still unreadable. Louis and Zayn were asking to give him head, _eager_ about it. If he thought he was going to come too soon just from _watching_ the other lads, then how in the hell was he supposed to make it through _that_ without coming in a minute’s time? What even was his life?

He wanted it, though. The thought alone was making his mouth water. But…he had to be honest with them—just in case he blew his load embarrassingly quickly. Which he was sure he’d do.

“You could just tell us to stop if you think you’re close,” Zayn whispered, sensing Niall’s trouble.

“Yeah,” Niall mumbled, “but it’s just—I’ve…never…done something like this before.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” Louis said lightly. “It’s better than it is with girls, I hear. It won’t mean anything. It’s just us. We’re not gonna think of you different or anything.”

“And you don’t gotta do anything but lie there,” added Zayn, smiling. His fingers trailed along Niall’s bare skin. “We do all the work. We just want you to feel good.”

Niall shook his head. “No, like, I’ve never—“ He moved his eyes to look at his cock, then he looked off to the side.

“Oh,” Zayn said, catching on. He withdrew his fingers from Niall’s leg.

“ _Oh_ ,” came from Louis at the same time. He and Zayn both tried to keep the surprise off their faces, but their open jaws didn’t want to close.

Zayn knew Niall didn’t have much experience sexually, but he didn’t know he’d literally _never_ received oral before. Which, by extension, meant he’d never gotten to know the pleasure of many, many other things… So it both surprised and flattered Zayn that Niall even wanted to be here with them during this, that he’d gone out of his way to ask to join them.

“Would you still—would you still let us?” Zayn asked softly. He already knew the answer. He knew Niall very well. Still, he added, “If you want…”

Niall's bright blue deer-eyes were wide. “At the same time?”

Louis smiled widely and shrugged. “Well, yeah. Not many people can say their first time getting head was by two people at once.”

“Well, I am pretty special, like,” Niall said under his breath, relaxing some.

“There’s our Nialler,” Louis said affectionately, chuckling. He moved himself down the bed into a better position for what he was preparing to do.

Zayn knew that Niall was only joking, but he still looked at Niall in soft agreeance. “You are,” he gently said.

Louis pulled a face at Zayn. He was always treating Niall like he was a pet or something, face turning all melty whenever he looked at him. Louis knew Zayn didn’t have _feelings_ for Niall or anything; it was just funny to witness.

“You’re sweet, babe,” Liam said to Zayn as he moved to Zayn’s side, starting to indulgently touch him—his shoulders, his back, his hips, his arse.

“That’s what you say now,” Zayn replied. He moved his hand back to Niall’s leg and stared Niall in the eyes, gloating. “I’m going to ruin you for everyone else who puts their mouth on you.”

Louis turned his head to the side in consideration and then spoke to Niall, “He’s probably right.”

“I should probably be jealous,” Liam hummed. He moved two dry fingers in between Zayn’s arse crack, and Zayn’s body jolted as Liam trailed them up and down.

“I should probably be scared,” Niall said.

Zayn smiled widely. Liam’s touch wasn’t really doing much, was more lewd than anything else, so Zayn stuck his arse up in the air to give Liam a better look while simultaneously lowering his face. “Relax.”

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Niall murmured, shifting around a bit. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he kept them by his sides and stared at the ceiling. “Cannot believe I’m doing this.”

"Don't overthink it. Just let it feel good.” Louis smiled. “And believe me, it’ll feel good."

Niall gave a weak laugh before closing his eyes and sinking his head further onto the pillow. “You…really don’t have to do this, you know. You don’t have to feel sorry for me or something if that’s what this is about.”

“Oh, give it a rest,” Louis said. He’d already started mouthing at Niall’s stomach, placing little kisses there and even on the top of his leg, anything but Niall’s cock. That was already being attended to by Zayn, whose bony fingers brushed along its sides, watching it move and twitch and grow under the sensation.

“We want to,” Zayn whispered.

Niall’s cock quickly became hard as steel again. In seconds. He tried to remove himself from the situation somewhat, tried to think about anything besides the mounting, tingly ache throughout his groin, but then he met Zayn’s eyes. _Hungry eyes._ Zayn looked at Niall much like a wolf before lowering his face and licking one long stripe from the bottom to the top, then the top to the bottom again, and Niall had to close his eyes again and ball his hands into tight fists to keep his mind from obsessing over the sight.

Zayn kept his mouth at the bottom of Niall’s shaft, kissing and suckling there, while Louis focused more on the tip. Somehow Niall was able to discern the little differences in their mouths, Louis all cute and teasing and kitten licks while Zayn was all sultry with his tongue—open-mouthed, filthy.

After excruciating seconds of this, Niall opened one eye to peek again. Louis and Zayn even _looked_ the way they sucked cock, Louis pretty with it, making satisfied little noises as he laved at all of Niall’s pre-cum, and Zayn dark-eyed and intense as he sporadically pulled Niall’s balls inside his mouth before slicking up Zayn’s shaft again with wide, heavy licks.

Every now and then, Louis and Zayn’s lips would touch as they moved their mouths up and down Niall’s erection, and they would back away from it to wetly kiss. They went back and forth like that a few times—paying attention to Niall and then paying attention to each other—and Niall couldn’t believe he was the person underneath them right now, that _he_ was the one that this was happening to. His jaw fell down.

Louis backed away then to swipe his sweaty fringe to the side, and Zayn took advantage of the opportunity to drop his open mouth onto the tip of Niall’s dick. It just felt so warm and so fucking good that Niall gasped and bucked his hips forward. Zayn smiled, gave a few circling swipes at the fluid copiously dripping out onto the side of Niall’s shaft, and then lowered his mouth to engulf Niall completely.

It was at that point that Harry decided it to be a good time to resume eating Louis out, and he did so with no warning yet again, just widened Louis’ arse with two hands, dropped his head in, and began licking at a furious pace right from the start, like he was continuing right where he’d left off earlier.

“ _Harry_ ,” Louis cried out in surprise, immediately backing away from Niall’s cock. So much for that.

Harry’s fingers were on either side of Louis’ hole, pulling the skin to the sides to give his tongue more access to everything. The action also made Louis’ already-loose rim expand, so Harry licked all around it, delving inside but not _all_ the way inside, suckling tiny little pieces of flesh into his mouth as he worked his way around and around.

At that point, Louis stopped doing much of anything and just rested his head upon Niall’s upper leg, right next to where Zayn had completely taken over slurping on Niall. Louis was nearby enough that he could crane his neck and probably be able to touch Niall’s dick with his tongue, but he didn’t. Actually, he scooted his body upwards and decided to hug Niall from the side again instead. Harry’s mouth followed his movements, never detaching.

Liam, watching for a while now at the beautiful way Zayn looked perched over Niall taking his cock in his mouth, was dying to get Zayn’s cock inside his own. He moved from his static position next to Zayn to the area behind him, lay down onto his back, and, head-first, scooted backwards in between Zayn’s legs, keeping his fingers pressed to Zayn’s puckered hole the entire time.

After Liam widened Zayn’s legs in order to fit his broad body in between them, he breathed in the thick and hot air. He kept moving until his head was directly beneath Zayn’s stomach, Zayn’s cock pointing at his face. Niall’s balls were essentially above his head, but he didn’t care; he moved his hands to Zayn’s arse cheeks and pulled forward and down, roughly kneading the skin there as he widely opened his jaw and filled his mouth with inch after inch after inch of Zayn’s length. One of his hands momentarily left Zayn’s arse to trail down the hardness of his own stomach, allowing himself a few pulls on top of his underwear while he breathed in deeply through his nose. Zayn’s cock stabbed his throat now. He hadn’t really thought this through very well, and maybe it was awkward as hell, but God, he loved it.

Maybe because he’d already come, Zayn handled Liam’s actions well. Besides a little hiss followed by a long, satisfied groan, he showed no real outward appearance of being overcome by Liam suddenly trying to deep-throat him. If anything, he moved his mouth wilder on Niall instead of being uncoordinated from his own pleasure, soon adding a hand in the mix, as well. Niall threw his head back on the pillow. His body was on fire with pure pleasure. This felt so much better than anything he’d ever felt before. No matter how much lotion he’d put on his own cock when wanking, nothing could ever compare to the feel of an actual mouth— _Zayn’s_ mouth.

Zayn began making noises—nothing to match the throaty noises Louis was spurting out directly into Niall’s ear—but still, Niall felt the humming vibrations on his cock, and his legs twitched. It was then that he felt something strange touch his leg, so he opened his eyes and leaned his upper-body to the side.

“Holy fucking hell,” Niall let out, eyes wide and enamored at what everyone was doing. Liam was—Liam was fucking his own mouth with Zayn’s cock while Zayn sucked _his_ cock. Niall essentially had both Zayn _and_ Liam in between his legs. “Holy shit…”

At some point, Niall truly let the madness of the situation leave his conscious, and he began clenching his arse and thrusting upwards, slowly yet rhythmically fucking into Zayn's mouth. The first few times he did it, it wasn’t even voluntary, and he stopped immediately, looking apologetic. Then Zayn, with a mouthful of cock, looked up all wide-eyed and shook his head, urging Niall to continue fucking upwards again.

So he did.

Beside him, Louis had finally begun blocking everything else out except for Harry’s tongue, and his hair was dampening the pillow. He’d had his face hid in his elbow feeling extraordinarily as if his entire body were slowly melting onto the sheets, but he quickly moved it closer to Niall again, resting it on Niall’s shoulder.

“Ohmyfuck _Harry_ ,” he breathed out, high and lovely-sounding to Niall’s ears. The sounds that _next_ escaped Louis’ mouth were bloody criminal, however. Niall was always told he had a dirty mouth himself, but his swearing was nothing compared to Louis at this moment.

“You showing off?” Harry asked, momentarily lifting his dripping face to breathe in something else besides the tantalizingly musky scent of Louis. His hands dug into Louis’ arsecheeks and he couldn’t help but squeeze—probably painfully hard—at the sight of what he’d already done to Louis’ pretty hole. His adoration lasted two seconds before he dropped his face again and began eating Louis out again, this time using more of his lips than his tongue, shifting from filthy to sweet.

“No more—” Louis paused to moan, “— _ugnnh_ —than usual.”

Harry gave one last kiss to Louis’ hole before pressing his tongue against the slight barrier there and pushing inside. He straightened his tongue as best as he could and moved his face back and forth rather than his tongue, jabbing forward using all the muscles in his neck.

Harry backed away after a few long moments; it was hard to keep that up for too long, and plus, Louis wouldn’t stop quaking. Harry licked his lips and swallowed. “No, I think you’re showing off.”

“Well, it fucking feels good, Harry,” Louis managed to say in between his harsh breaths.

“Yeah?”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Louis moaned. He reached behind him with one arm and uncoordinatedly placed it on Harry’s head, trying to push it down again. Once Harry complied, Louis’ fingers moved nonstop against Niall’s skin, clasping. All of the jolting sensations inside of him had to come out somehow, so he pursed his lips and sought out Niall’s mouth. He found Niall’s hand with one of his own, grabbing it and squeezing it as he tried to kiss him, but Niall was just as clumsy with his lips as Louis himself was.

Harry had started thinking it was hot watching Zayn and Louis kiss ages ago, and it was no different with Niall. Harry’s jealousy had long ago left because why be jealous when he was completely confident now that it was he and he alone who could ever fully satisfy Louis? Who could not only make him come but who could bring his body to places it’d never been before, each and every time they joined? Who _knew_ his body, who could worship him like he deserved?

It was with these smug thoughts that Harry leaned forward and took hold of Louis’ face while he was still kissing Niall and smashed his lips to Louis’, reclaiming them in case Louis forgot who was making him feel this good in the first place. Louis started at the new taste but quickly responded with relief of having a self-confident set of lips overpower his.

Easily, Harry slid two fingers inside Louis as he kissed him, controlling both Louis’ mouth and his arse now with skillful precision.

Harry’s hot breath filled Louis’ mouth as he spoke, “You’ll tell me when you’re close.”

Louis nodded heavily. He closed his eyes and slackened his mouth, whispered, _“Give me more,”_ and Harry backed away from Louis’ face. Gave him more.

Niall’s eyes opened for a split-second to try to look at Harry, but Harry’s eyes were only focused on Louis’ arsehole as he moved his fingers in and out of Louis, so slowly and with such extreme discipline that it shouldn’t’ve even been possible. Louis moved his head from the pillow, dropping it on Niall’s shoulder, and he bit down on Niall’s skin. His actions were repetitive and dazed: kiss Niall and then drop his head and moan, kiss Niall again and then drop his head and moan. And _fucking Zayn_ , with his lusty eyes and sinful mouth—he focused just at the tip of Niall’s cock now, hand still working Niall’s shaft with precision, and what the fuck was he doing with his tongue that made Niall feel so—made Niall feel so—

“Oh, dear God, you’re so good at this,” Louis murmured to Harry, muffled into the pillow. Louis wouldn’t stop moving around, wouldn’t shut up. “ _Ahh_ , oh, ughn, _ughn, ughn_ —“

“Waitwaitwait,” Niall said loudly, suddenly pulling his torso back and wiggling away from Zayn and Louis. The movement made a popping noise where the suction from Zayn’s mouth broke, and Zayn looked up with heavy-lidded eyes and a wet mouth. He couldn’t think very clearly; Liam had pulled his hips so far down that his dick was almost the entire way in Liam’s mouth, his balls on Liam’s chin.

Louis and Zayn’s already-open mouths fell down in confusion, and Louis looked positively _high_ as he lifted his head.

What was Niall on about? Everything was feeling _so good_.

 _“Harry, go back,”_ was Louis’ first cry. Harry had stilled his fingers again to pay attention to Niall.

“What’s—?“ began Zayn, but already in explanation, Niall gestured to his cock and shook his head. “It’s only been, like—I’m about to embarrass myself.”

“Not—embarrassing,” Zayn gritted out. Liam was doing all the work for Zayn, lifting Zayn’s hips and bringing them down again, fucking his own face, his arm muscles tight and veiny. Why was Zayn’s _mouth_ empty though? It had felt so _good, so complete_. “We _want_ you to—“

“No,” Niall persisted, covering himself with a hand and looking upset, “it is, though. You four are like—you’re fucking _sex gods_ , look at you, and shit, I’m not trying to ruin this for everyone.”

“How would you ruin it by _coming_ , Niall?” Louis mumbled into Niall’s skin. His fingers touched Niall’s chest, caressing there little circles. “Jesus, Niall, just do it. We want you to…Really…Feels good…Harry, please, don’t stop.” Harry’s fingers were still stuffing him full, so he backed himself up on them. “ _Oh_ …”

Niall looked to the other lads for help, particularly searching out Harry’s eyes. Louis noticed where Niall’s line of vision was, and he turned to Harry.

Louis was the only one moaning in the suddenly-quiet room. It took every ounce of discipline to still his hips.

“W-what?” Louis stuttered out in mild confusion, his breath coming out in heavy huffs. All of the lads’ faces changed in response to whatever Niall had said, sort of like it had made sense to them or something. Like there was some deeper meaning. “What?”

“We sort of had this idea, baby,” Harry slowly began explaining after removing his wet fingers from Louis.

“ _Noo_ , not again. Please, _please_ put them back. Oh, my god, I’m going to fucking die,” Louis groaned. He couldn’t do this, not tonight. His legs involuntarily began shaking again. “This is—infuriating.”

“You’re fucking gaping,” Harry awed instead of really responding to Louis. He dropped his mouth to Louis again and slurped there. Fuck, he couldn’t get enough. Looked so good. Tasted so good. Louis squeaked, but then Harry moved his face away again. “Wish you could see yourself like this.”

“Baby, bloody hell, I just want to fucking come, I just want to come, that’s _all—please_!”

“You will. But we wanted to do something for you. For your birthday.”

Louis took a few deep breaths. Maybe a few dozen deep breaths. “What’s going on?”

Harry’s fingertips were trailing along Louis’ back. When Louis asked his question, Harry put his hands on Louis’ hips and easily rolled him over onto his back. God, Louis looked so vulnerable like this. Harry resumed trailing his fingertips up and down Louis’ tummy. “Our idea was…is…to cover you in cum.”

“Wh..what?”

“Covering you in cum,” Harry said again, his voice quite dry. “Coming all over you.”

Louis was speechless. _Everybody_?

“I was thinking,” Harry spoke while caressing the low, softer part of Louis’ tummy, “maybe Niall could go right here…” Harry’s hand then traced up the middle line of Louis’ abs, and he brushed Louis’ right nipple with his thumb. “And maybe Liam and Zayn could cover your chest…”

Louis glanced at the other lads and noticed the nonchalance with which they were listening, like it was no big deal that they were currently discussing coming all over Louis’ body. There was no surprise on their faces at all, just decadent indulgence, even from Niall. “You’ve—you’ve all talked about this?”

Zayn’s mouth was open in an inaudible moan, but he had wits enough to nod at Louis. That inaudible moan turned into a whine when Liam stopped what he was doing and crawled away from Zayn again with a red and sweaty face. After sitting up again, he ran his tongue over his bottom lip and sultrily stared at Zayn’s arse. He began circling Zayn’s rim with his dry thumb.

Louis looked at Niall and suddenly realized why he’d been acting the way he had been. He didn’t want to come so soon. He was saving it because they had all talked about _fucking coming all over Louis_.

“You’re all being serious?” He hoped so. He was so fucking hard it hurt.

Harry nodded. “If that’s something you think you’d want.”

Louis didn’t answer; his mouth was open in shock. He squeezed his eyes shut so hard he saw stars. Harry crawled forward and kissed Louis’ neck, his body weight gloriously atop Louis’ just like Louis loved.

“You can’t hide your kinks from me,” Harry whispered, speaking against Louis’ skin. “I’ve seen the history on your laptop, remember?”

Louis groaned. “Should I be happy or mad, then.”

Harry chuckled. “It was just that one time,” he whispered into Louis’ ear. “Not on purpose…but, like—you know…”

Louis tightly nodded, not caring at all that Harry had accidentally seen his search history from so long ago. At one time, that would have and _did_ anger him, but he wasn’t bothered by that anymore since they both basically shared that laptop now. And because they were completely open about everything these days.

No, what actually bothered Louis was that Harry had chosen tonight of all nights to tease him with this shit, had chosen tonight to control Louis’ orgasms to the point where his body felt like hot, thick, sticky lava had replaced his blood, to the point where his dick was oversensitive and it hadn’t even been touched yet, to the point where he’d started to make unintentional noises, gripping at Harry desperately.

“Relax, baby, shh…You’ll get to come, I promise. Shhh…” Harry then caressed Louis’ neck with two of his fingers, stopping directly below Louis’ Adam’s apple where the skin dipped a bit. “Your neck can be all mine, yeah?”

Staring at Harry with barely-parted lips, Louis could feel his chest constrict and his heart beat faster. “Or maybe…maybe a bit higher,” he suggested.

“Higher?” Harry asked, his eyebrows lifted in interest. “…On your face?”

Louis brought his thumb into his mouth and nodded while biting its tip.

“Then that’s what you’ll get,” Harry simply replied. Wordlessly, he drew Louis’ hand out of his mouth to replace Louis’ thumb with his own, sticking it in the wet pocket of Louis’ cheek before dragging it across Louis’ tongue. Louis closed his eyes. He happily began to suck.

Louis’ mouth looked so inviting, warm and deep pink…little smooth lips. Harry needed to taste it. He tilted his head to the side, removed his hand from Louis’ mouth to cup Louis’ head, and leaned inward to glide his lips along Louis’ yielding ones, soft and sweet and pure now, nothing like their earlier kiss when Harry’d all but ripped Louis away from Niall to reclaim his attention for that one moment. But Harry supposed that was just the way he loved Louis—sometimes all passion and fervency like rolling riptides on rocks, sometimes as subtle and casual as a dark, still lake people mistook as shallow, but mostly with a simmering heat like bathwater that both burned and comforted, feelings too intense to explain, leading Harry to treat Louis like he was both fragile and indestructible at once. He loved Louis. He loved him so much.

And he told himself—no matter how tomorrow went, even if their plan fell through and they were told they’d just have to wait until their contracts were up, would have to wait _indefinitely_ , he knew their love would still win. He and Louis had already come so far in the amount of time they’d been together, and there was literally nowhere else to go but up. He was so fucking proud of Louis, and things with him could only get better. Things with him _would_ only get better. Wrapping his arms around Louis and holding him tightly, Harry didn’t know if it was possible to feel any better, though. He was on top of the world.

As Harry widened his jaw and met Louis’ tongue with his own, he made a guttural noise that Louis felt in his own mouth. Thinking of love and forever but also of filthily seeing his release smeared all over Louis’ face, Harry groaned evermore, tongue doing all the little tricks he knew Louis loved, sliding just right. Immediately—instinctually—Louis’ wide-spread legs wrapped around Harry’s hips and hooked together on top of Harry’s arse, and his tongue moved effortlessly with Harry’s. Louis used his toes to hook under Harry’s boxers and slide them all the way off.

“Feels so good…You feel so good to me…” Harry pulled his mouth away from Louis’ lips and pressed their foreheads together. All of their bits touched like this, hard and fleshy and insistent against each other. Harry had already started to rock his hips. “You ready for me now?” he asked. It sounded sweet.

Louis still couldn’t get over what Harry had earlier told him. Jesus Christ—covered in all the lads’ cum? Sated and dirty and the center of everyone’s attention? The image alone made his arsehole flutter and his balls tighten. If Harry hadn’t succeeded in calming him down from his impending orgasm just now, he was sure that just imagining the fantasy would have had him spurting out uncontrollably.

But—Louis just knew that if he could control things himself, maybe he _would_ actually be able to come. Maybe if Harry were trapped under Louis’ body instead of the other way around, he wouldn’t have any time for that pulling-out nonsense when Louis got right on the brink of exploding. He wouldn’t be able to remove contact from Louis like he’d been doing, wouldn’t be able to stop Louis from coming for the third time.

“What if I want to be on top this time?” Louis asked breathlessly.

Lost in the sensation of their grind, of Louis’ feet pushing him in closer and closer, Harry’s eyes had slipped shut. At Louis’ question, he reopened them. “Hmm?”

Louis traced up and down the back of Harry’s leg with the heel of his foot. “Wanna ride you,” he repeated huskily.

“But it’s your birthday,” Harry said, putting all his charm in his voice before kissing Louis again. “Don’t want me to give it to you good and deep like you like it?”

“’Course—” replied Louis, groaning at the way Harry’s body was sliding against his in time with his words, Harry’s mouth dragging all along his jaw, “but I also really, really—uhnn—want to sit on your dick and—have you watch me—and—it’s my birthday.”

Harry moved his arms from Louis to put them on either side of his face, holding his body up. He knew he had been being rather cruel to Louis this evening, so at least—of course—he could grant Louis this. Especially because it wasn’t so often these days that Louis wanted to be on top; Harry had spoiled him proper good.

Harry grabbed Louis’ wrist and softly pulled there to signal Louis to roll around with him and climb on. At Harry’s tender face watching Louis in reverie, Louis almost felt guilty. He was being naughty, planning to use Harry’s cock like this. But it was his birthday—soon—and Harry had already teased him twice in the most wicked ways possible, so, as he saddled up, brought his mouth to Harry’s, and smiled against Harry’s lips like he had a secret, he didn’t feel quite so bad.

To the side of the pair, Zayn was enjoying having his arse played with. Thinking Liam was about to finger him, Zayn’s face lolled downward—again towards Niall’s untouched dick—but Zayn lifted his head and cocked it to the side when he felt nothing but firm presses against his hole but no real penetration. Looking over his shoulder, Zayn’s dark eyes sought out Liam’s.

Liam was busy wiping off his mouth with one hand and basically massaging Zayn’s arsehole with his other, so Zayn reached behind him and caressed his own arse. Using his fingers to spread his cheeks open for Liam’s viewing pleasure, Zayn wiggled his hips a little bit before asking, “You gonna let me make you come now?”

Liam swallowed hard. He leaned forward, reached out, and tucked a stray bit of Zayn’s hair behind his ear. “Yeah, baby. Safe to say I’ll let you do just that.”

Zayn smiled and then licked his lips. Still on his knees in between Niall’s legs, he turned around and shuffled closer to Liam. His hands met Liam’s broad and hairy chest at the same time his mouth dropped and attached itself to one of Liam’s nipples, moaning around it while he licked and flicked.

Liam hissed in a breath and held onto Zayn’s hair. “Damn, Zayn, you’ve got quite the oral fixation tonight, haven’t you?”

Zayn smiled up at Liam, dragging both of his hands down Liam’s abs until he reached into Liam’s pants and immediately began stroking his cock. “Wanna come in my mouth?” he whispered. After he finished shucking Liam’s underwear down with his free hand, he held Liam’s balls in his palm, still pumping Liam steadily with the other.

Liam closed his eyes. “I wanna do everything,” he answered, nonsensible. He thrusted into Zayn’s hand for long moments, depraved and desperate.  Zayn’s eyes floated between watching Liam’s face and watching the skin of Liam’s cock move with his hand until Liam’s hips finally slowed to a halt. His breathing was thick. “Move up the bed.”

Zayn nodded, looked to all the space to the side of Niall, at all the pillows—some firm, some fluffy—and crawled up there, ultimately lying on his back. He widened his legs and hinged his knees, hands holding onto his hamstrings.

However inviting that looked, Liam corrected him. “On your side. Roll over.”

So Zayn listened, getting close to Niall but not too awful close. He smiled softly ahead of him without showing any teeth. He was about to get fucked.

Liam took in a big lungful of fresh air before leaving the bed and heading to his bag by the nearby wall. His actions were choppy and imprecise, and it took him a while to find the lubricant he’d hidden away in a special place. Once he hopped back on the bed, he immediately coated his fingers and shaped his body behind Zayn’s. Head on the same pillow as Zayn, Liam began kissing the back of Zayn’s neck and brought his hand to Zayn’s cock.

“What do you want?” Liam asked quietly.

Zayn was silent for a beat, just humping Liam’s hand. Liam just continued placing his chaste, tiny kisses along Zayn’s neck in contrast to the filthy way he was starting to jerk him.

“Like that?”

“Finger me, Li.” Zayn’s voice was throaty. “Get me ready for your cock.”

Snaking his hand around, Liam touched Zayn’s rim and pressed two of his fingers inside at once. Sure and slick, they worked Zayn’s body, opening and stretching him slowly and steadily, and Zayn moved along with every slide. Fuck, Liam hardly ever did two at once on the first go, and the intensity was just what Zayn needed.

“Faster?”

“ _Yeah_ , faster,” Zayn breathed. He found one of Niall’s hands and held it while Liam tried to move his hand faster in and out of Zayn. Really, he just ended up fucking them inside _harder_ instead.

Eventually, the speed of Zayn’s hips overpowered the speed of Liam’s hand, so Liam added another finger. He panted into Zayn’s ear. “Good?”

“So good,” Zayn answered instantly. So, so, so good.

“Been so long, want this to be good.”

Zayn nodded quickly, assuring Liam with pure sincerity how good it was. “Always is.” It took just a few more glides along his tight tunnel for Zayn to be ready for the real thing. He slid himself away from Liam’s hand and whispered, “Li, I’m ready.”

He might not’ve been _ready_ -ready, but he was ready. He pushed his arse back, angling it with almost enough precision to push Liam’s cock inside without using any hands. ”Want your cock. Want it…”

“Let me kiss you.” Using his own sloppy fingers, Liam turned Zayn’s face to his own and, because he had to crane his neck forward, kissed only the corner of his mouth at first. He was determined to actually kiss him though, so he hooked his chin over Zayn’s shoulder and leaned his body even closer, finally meeting Zayn’s lips spot-on.

His fingertips glazed along Zayn’s chest and down to his stomach, then back up to his small nipples. His thumb vibrated back and forth against one until it became perky. “Mmm,” he spoke into Zayn’s mouth. “I could touch you forever, baby.”

Liam’s rough actions yet soft words were keeping Zayn excited, confusing his body. “You’re being sappy,” he mumbled. “Want you to fuck me.”

Liam smiled mildly, causing vague wrinkles to form by his eyes. “So what if I’m sappy? I’m in love with you.”

Zayn’s body went rubbery. “ _Liam_ …”

“I’m in love with you,” he said as he took hold of his dick, “and I’m still gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to _think_ …gonna have to squeeze inside your tight hole, though—“ Liam rambled as his cockhead fumbled to find Zayn’s entrance—“still so tight—“

Zayn stared at Liam with his mouth wide open as Liam pushed the head of his cock against Zayn’s rim and moved forward until he finally breeched him. Both Liam and Zayn gasped.

Once he felt the first bit of Liam inside himself at last, spreading him unbelievably wide, Zayn flopped his head on the pillow and turned it to Niall. “Oh…”

Liam forced himself to go slow so Zayn could feel every single bit of him. Zayn was making the sweetest, prettiest sounds, and it amazed Liam how dirty he could be with others but how pliant and soft he always was for him. Whether it was getting himself off on Liam’s calf or wearing a cock cage for him or riding him until the sun came up, Zayn was always just so _sweet_.

Deeper and deeper Liam slid inside until he finally bottomed out and placed a kiss to Zayn’s shoulder. He stayed inside Zayn, unmoving, caressing his tiny body, his soft skin, for long moments.

When Zayn covered Liam’s hand with one of his own, Liam pivoted his hips forward, pushing impossibly deeper, trying to get inside as much as he could. Zayn gasped and squeezed at Liam’s hand. It felt like they were one person, one entity, from how tight their bodies were meshed together. Liam spoke against Zayn’s skin, right into his ear, “You’re so—Zayn, you’re—”

Liam couldn’t even make a thought. Zayn himself couldn’t think of anything else besides the massive piercing sensation filling him so satisfyingly, burning him yet putting out his fires at the same time. Zayn’s fingernails dug into Liam’s skin. “I’ve fucking missed this.”

“I know, baby, me too.”

Zayn let himself close his eyes, and finally, finally, Liam began rocking into him.

Next to the pair, Niall was sure his face looked creepy with how intently he was watching everything. He felt Liam and Zayn begin to move without rhythm as he watched Harry and Louis kiss. Harry had pulled Louis in close to snog him, and that’s what they’d been doing for ages now.

Harry broke away from Louis’ face and gestured to somewhere close to Liam. “Niall, could you give me that stuff?”

Without answering verbally, Niall sat up and stretched his body over the limbs of the steadily-moaning Zayn and Liam, finding the lube easily. After he placed it in Harry’s waiting palm, he settled back on his pillow again, noticing how indented and damp it’d gotten from how long he’d been in the same position, pervertedly watching and growing hotter and hotter. He lifted his head and turned the pillow over.

Harry got his dick wet without really looking at what he was doing. Once he was done, he carelessly tossed the tube back to Niall. “Use some for yourself.”

But Niall was still forcing himself not to touch. He would not be the first one to come. He would not.

With an avarice he only got for Harry’s cock, Louis’ eyes turned dark. Lifting himself up and matching Harry to his arse, Louis sat down _hard_ , and Harry grunted as if he’d been stabbed. Louis felt like he’d be torn in two himself, but he moved with the sting until it morphed into eyes-rolling-to-the-back-of-his-head good.

Within a minute, Louis began genuinely riding, bouncing a bit with his thighs. He was relentless with it, staring over his shoulder at his own hole take Harry’s huge cock, listening to the noises of his arse hitting Harry’s pelvis, _slap_ — _slap_ — _slap._

Harry looked up at Louis in shock, his hands loose on Louis’ legs. “Louis…”                                                            

Louis turned his head back around and stared Harry in the eye. Rose his body up. Crashed his body down. His own dick moved in circles from his fervor.

Harry threw his head back. He didn’t know what body part on Louis to look at, so he looked at the ceiling. “Fucking hell.”

That only spurred Louis on. He loved it when Harry got this way—feeling so good he couldn’t do anything, couldn’t say much. It wasn’t often that he was in this situation. Louis began moving even quicker, using all the force his thighs would allow to lift himself up and then crash himself back down again, truly using Harry’s cock to get himself off. Since Harry wouldn’t allow him to come without permission, and since Harry wasn’t going to _grant_ him permission, he’d just have to do it himself. His toes curled just knowing how bad he was being, how close he was to finally getting rid of his pent-up release.

“Oh, fuck,” he murmured repetitively. “Oh, fuck, oh, fuck.”

Feeling bold, he took ahold of his bobbing cock and pinched a nipple with two free fingers of his other hand. Moisture formed on his brow, and Harry watched as it became more pronounced, beading up in between Louis’ knit-together eyebrows. At that point, Harry turned his head to the side and groaned, biting the meat of his hand, right below his thumb.

“Look at me,” Louis grunted.

Harry’s head snapped back to Louis. He looked high. “I’m looking.”

“Do I look good?”

The answer was immediate. “God, yes.”

Harry’s eyes flickered from one part of Louis’ body to the next, everything looking so good he didn’t know what to focus on. Louis’ pretty hand held his pretty cock, not even stroking because he was already moving so quickly. Up and down his torso went, and God, Harry loved the way his stomach looked. It would never be rock-hard and Harry loved it that way. And Harry’s eyes moved down again. Louis was moving so high up with each drive Harry could see the pinkness his own shaft from time-to-time, feel air for a second and then the glorious warmth of Louis’ body again, squeezing and pulsing and feeling like home, followed by the _whoosh_ of Louis’ balls. Louis moved so fucking hard it made Harry grunt.

“Jesus Christ, Lou,” Harry let out.

Louis looked over and finally saw that Niall had caved and had begun touching himself again. Panting, Louis had to slow down a bit now, still moving down hard but making his upward drags slow and pronounced so Harry could feel every bit of him.

Niall was aware of Zayn’s cock poking his side now, wetting his skin with the slimy pre-cum that spit out of it, and Niall turned his head to see Zayn’s eyes closed, his face beautiful. Louis’ eyes were closed, too, and his face was turned upwards now.

Their faces were the epitome of bliss. Niall had never…Niall had never done anything to _that_ area of his body before, but it seemed that somehow it was pretty fucking unreal for Zayn and Louis, so…Niall discreetly lowered a hand below his balls and, before he thought better of it, put a finger inside.

Niall’s eyes were wide as he barely moved his finger in and out. It didn’t feel _bad_ , necessarily, but it felt a little odd for him. He decided to keep just the tip inside, unmoving.

God, he was close. He took his hand off his cock again and breathed raggedly. How many times was he going to have to do this? He was going _mad_.

So was Louis.

Louis had expended much of his energy already, and he still wasn’t any closer to coming than he was minutes ago. He needed a bit more, needed Harry to push upwards to jab at his prostate, to stimulate it.

“Come on,” Louis begged, sitting down all the way and wiggling his hips left and right, “come on, Daddy, move with me. _Fuck_ me.”

“ _Louis_ ,” Harry gasped, grabbing Louis’ hips and finally snapping his own pelvis up, “We– I told you not – don’t say that.”

Louis momentarily ignored Harry and looked down at Harry’s torso instead, at the suddenly frantic movements Harry was now making, at his thoroughly-dampened pubic hair and the lovely happy-trail above it.

“Uhn, _oh_ -h-h—s-shit…You like it,” Louis whispered, so quiet it almost wasn’t noticeable. It was a breath. Harry just squeezed onto Louis harder, shoved his cock up inside as far as it would go, and Louis hissed, “ _Yes_.” He was so close now, he was so close.

Louis’ body began jiggling, unable to keep itself upright because Harry began moving so fast. Louis braced his hands on Harry’s chest and tried to match each of Harry’s thrusts, and though his legs were burning, he succeeded.

“You want it, too,” Louis taunted, eyes mischievous mere inches from Harry’s. A trail of sweat ran down Louis’ forehead and fell onto Harry’s nose. Though his face was steadily moving from the way his body was surging, Louis stuck his tongue out and licked a quick, vertical stripe along Harry’s barely-parted lips. “Want me to call you it, too. _Daddy_. Fucking me so good, fucking me so fucking good, gonna come all over me—aren’t you, Daddy?”

Harry would come inside Louis’ arse if he kept talking like that. Determined to shut Louis _the fuck_ up, Harry planted his feet in the bed, squeezed his eyes shut, and prepared to fuck the ever-loving shit out of him, but on second thought, he slowed his hips until they came to a complete stop.

Louis was just sat there, panting, his pulse beating so rapidly he heard it. He bounced his hips a bit greedily, egging Harry to continue moving. So close, so close, _so fucking close_ it hurt.

Harry was just as bad-off. He had to chew on his cheek in order to rein himself in. Good fucking lord, he was about to come inside Louis and ruin everything. “You want to tease me, then get your own self off,” Harry said, his words coming out heavy. He didn’t mean them. Louis had to ask to come. Harry would say no.

“You tease me all the time,” Louis moaned, his chest expanding and collapsing rhythmically in exertion. He shifted his hips restlessly and unhappily whined, “Keep going, come on.”

It took every ounce of control for Harry to make his face look uninterested. “Got yourself all worked up and now you’re tired?”

Louis nodded. He never could completely match Harry’s stamina in bed.

“So sad. Guess that’s what happens to impatient boys.”

Though he was starting to get tired and he craved for Harry to move, Louis couldn’t help the grinding motion of his own hips. “You bastard.”

Harry instantaneously lifted a hand and solidly smacked Louis’ backside, the skin immediately smarting under Harry’s wide palm. “Don’t beg me to fuck you and then talk to me like that.”

The second Harry spanked him, Louis closed his eyes, and his mouth fell down in bliss while he wiggled evermore on Harry’s length impaling him. “Oh, fuck, yeah. Do that again, do it again.”

Harry took the same hand as before, quickly raised it, and brought it down upon the middle of Louis’ arsecheek. “Tell me what to do one more time and see what happens.”

“If it means you’ll spank me more, maybe I will,” Louis breathed. Harry gave Louis a look that appeared positively murderous, except all it did for Louis was make his stomach tighten and give him a vendetta to break the rules and come all over Harry’s abs.

So he did. He gulped in great heaps of air as once more he jolted his body upwards and slammed it back down, turning this into a proper work-out, muscles taut and body shimmery with sweat.

“ _Lou_ , easy, baby. Easy.”

Louis’ breath came out in huffs. “Don’t—wanna—be—easy. Wanna—come…”

Harry’s hands, one currently by his own face and the other by his side, touching Louis’ knees, suddenly moved to Louis’ hips, forcefully holding Louis down. “Stop moving, stop moving,” he rushed out desperately. He didn’t want Louis to come yet, but _he_ didn’t want to come yet, either.

Louis shook his head, trying to resume the chase, grinding shallow now. “I’m so close.” Fuck, he shouldn’t have admitted that.

Harry clenched his teeth. Breathing in air through his mouth, it sounded like an inward hiss while he still kept Louis’ hips motionless despite feeling him struggle. Clearly Harry was close, too. Obviously. He had to wait, though. Make it good for Louis. Come on his face like he’d asked.

Louis’ hand moved to his cock again. Instantaneously, he jerked his hand up and down his length while arching his back, feeling Harry in impossible places like this. Three strokes was all it took before his thighs began shaking, quivering by Harry’s torso as he loudly spilled out around Harry’s belly button. _Ahhhh_.

Straight away, Louis felt nothing but relief, pure relief. His breathing went from quick and hitched to deep and heavy—satisfied. Blissed out, he closed his eyes. “Oh, _God_ , that felt so good.”

Harry went from about-to-bust-his-load-any-second to completely-in control quite quick. He couldn’t believe Louis had just done that. He pushed himself upright. His voice was stern. _“Louis. I told you to ask.”_

Louis didn’t meet Harry’s eyes as Harry removed him from his lap. With movements so quick they took Louis off-guard, Harry held onto Louis’ sides and roughly pushed Louis off his lap and down onto the mattress, a whoosh of air audibly sounding out into the room from the speed.

Louis’ itching hands sought out Harry’s body, straight away trying to wrap themselves around Harry’s neck, but in a flash, his wrists were pinned above his head. Harry held both of them together in just one hand as Louis’ body writhed, forearms trying to fight their way out of Harry’s hold.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Harry muttered. He guided Louis’ hands to the wrought-iron spindles of the headboard behind his head until Louis was firmly clutching it. “Had your chance to touch me. Lost it. Now keep them there.”

Harry left himself for a minute, busy ogling Louis’ body. He had completely shaved his underarms. When Louis’ soft little voice whispered, _“Yes, sir,”_ Harry snapped his eyes to Louis, unsure if he was being genuine or cheeky.

It was the latter—Harry could easily tell from the slight twinkle in Louis’ eyes—and Harry darkly stared at Louis until he squirmed. Inevitably, Louis breathed out an apology. For teasing? For coming without permission? For not even _asking_ permission? Harry wasn’t sure, and, truthfully, it didn’t matter. He’d still give Louis whatever he wanted. He always would.

“Oh, save it.” Harry looked down between their bodies, his own stomach nasty with Louis’ messy, dripping cum, and slid his hand down. After swiping up all of Louis’ release on his long fingers, he rubbed it all over his still-wet cock and then purposefully held onto himself. “You’re not sorry,” he muttered, matching himself to Louis’ hole again and immediately slamming inside his body hard, his hips taking off at the frantic pace Louis had earlier established. He grunted without shame, his face already a bit wild upon seeing Louis’ mouth drop from the force of his thrusts. “Not sorry at all, baby.”

Niall found his body being moved almost as much as Louis’ suddenly was from the way Harry firmly fucked into him, and to his right, Liam and Zayn were causing him to move, as well, just from a completely different rhythm. Theirs was still quite quick but softer somehow, and their sideways position moved Niall’s body in the opposite direction that Harry’s and Louis’ did, jolting him all around. He might as well have had been on a water bed.

Niall had no idea if he’d be able to last much longer. He’d never forced himself not to come for quite this long before. His head was beginning to hurt from the lack of blood flow there, and for the billionth time that evening, his entire groin region screamed at him from lack of attention.

Louis wasn’t going to last, either. He had just come, but that normally made it come easier the second time, faster. It didn’t help that he was meeting Harry halfway with every plunge, either. Laying there and _taking it_ was one of Louis’ favorite things ever—he loved it, princess that he was—but tonight, he matched each of Harry’s movements thrust for thrust, using his hold on the headboard as leverage to keep his body rolling.

And they both were sore, and they both were sensitive and too close to coming for this to be safe, but still their hips moved uncontrollably against each other’s. Harry’s hair fell into his own eyes and onto Louis’ face, getting into his mouth. Their sweat mixed. They breathed into each other’s mouths.

“Love looking at you,” Harry panted. “So. Sweet.”

Louis’ hands went loose around the headboard until his sore arms finally dropped and wrapped around Harry’s neck, pulling his face in even more. “Thought you—were mad.”

“Never,” Harry slurred, drunk off how messy and perfect they were being together, glued together by Louis’ cum now sliding along both their bellies. Harry tried to smile. He wasn’t sure if his muscles were working correctly. “Love it when you’re bad. Cause it’s so, so good…”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Louis moaned. “Bloody—I’m gonna come again,” he warned.

Harry’s hips didn’t want to slow down, but he forced them to. His overexerted body shook above Louis’. “Baby, I’m—“ Harry dropped his sweaty head onto Louis’ shoulder, panting there. “ _God_. Please don’t. Not yet.”

Suddenly Liam was behind Harry. Liam had been on the edge of coming again for a while, and when Zayn started speaking in a different language, Liam couldn’t fucking wait to come any longer and roughly pulled out of Zayn. Zayn was now sat up on his knees jerking off, and as he moved closer to Louis, Niall sprang his body up. _Yes_.

“Harry, mate,” Liam struggled to get out, for Zayn began stroking Liam as well as his own self now, “I think we’re—shit—“

Harry’s voice was a little delirious as he lifted it from the crook of Louis’ neck and nodded, saying, “Yeah, okay, yeah.”  Wincing, he pulled out of Louis.

Louis’ breath hitched. He maybe was losing his mind a little at what was about to happen.

“Hold that leg down for me,” Louis heard Harry murmur. He felt pressure on his legs keeping him from moving, and then Harry’s voice again. “Li, get his arm.”

Liam’s pushed at Louis’ right arm so hard it fell into the mattress. Zayn’s knees were on top of Louis’ right leg, pinning it down, and Harry held down Louis’ left leg with a knee and his left arm with his hand.

For the hell of it, Louis tried to struggle. Couldn’t. Whimpered.

Zayn’s right hand held onto his own cock while his left hand jerkily pumped Liam’s. There was a frantic quality to it, like they’d been waiting for this all night and finally they could come, and Louis couldn’t _deal_ with that. He tried to hump his own hips upward, but everyone was so strong he literally couldn’t move an inch. He thrashed his head left and right.

Harry’s deep voice grounded him again. “You’re gonna be filthy in a second, baby, keep watching.”

Louis drew his stomach inwards and tightened his stomach so his abs were pronounced. Knowing what was coming, he stared at his stomach and then back to Liam’s cock. Liam’s cock jutted forward to fuck Zayn’s small and glistening hand.  Once Liam began groaning incessantly, Louis himself moaned because he knew all of Liam’s noises and what they meant, and oh, shit— _finally_. Liam started to shake, his hold on Louis lessening a bit, and then he was painting Louis’ stomach with short, thick spurts of cum.

Seconds later, Liam felt unbelievably good but almost guilty for what he’d just done, but Harry apparently had loved it. His face was intense as he loomed over Louis. “You’re so dirty, aren’t you Lou?” he crooned.

“ _Yeah_.” Louis looked positively wanton.

Zayn was next. His mouth finally fell open, his tiny body gyrating into his palm, and just as he began whimpering, Harry’s left hand reached between Louis’ legs, and he pushed four fingers all the way inside. Louis slurred something nonsensible. He wanted to open his legs more.

Harry only moved the tips of his fingers, already inside so deep he seriously considered fisting Louis. “So fucking dirty.”

Louis’ eyes were so hooded, he couldn’t see Harry well. “So dirty,” he repeated.

Zayn’s hot and white droplets met Louis’ chest next, accompanying Liam’s load, and Louis swore under his breath.

Niall was on his knees now, too, and he moved in between Liam and Zayn’s body. He couldn’t believe he was about to do this, but he needed relief, and with a fervor he hadn’t allowed himself to have all night, he began beating his dick, almost to the point where it made noise above Louis’ whining.

The rapid way Niall’s hand moved along the giving skin of his purpleish cock almost looked like it would hurt, and his face scrunched up in a pained grimace as he grunted through his still-clenched teeth.

Zayn was making little circles on Louis’ leg. He looked over at Niall. He seemed to be struggling. “Want me to?”

“I got it,” Niall said out of gritted teeth. And that was the end of everything.

All at once, the pleasure boiled over, and Niall’s legs turned wobbly. He made the most noise of all, every sound he’d been keeping in all evening escaping him in indecent and furious tones while he stroked himself with an expert hand. Sweating just from all this, he squeezed his eyes and came blindly all over Louis’ chest, a ridiculous amount.

Louis half-consciously started to rub and smear in Liam’s and Niall’s and Zayn’s cum on his stomach and chest, loudly begging Harry while trying to move against his fingers, “ _Come, Harry!”_ He was so close—right there—“ _Come on my face_ …”

“I’ll come when you do,” Harry panted. His pulse was unreal right now.

“Come on me and I _will_.”

“Same time, then,” Harry quickly told Louis before he wrapped his hand around his chubby cock. Knowing it would only take mere seconds, his doubled the movements of his fingers inside Louis, zeroing in on Louis’ prostate so forcefully Louis’ body literally moved—just from Harry’s fingers.

Everyone had sort of let loose their restrictive hold on Louis, so he finally succeeded in pivoting his hips up and humping the air, not even aware of all the hands suddenly on him softer now, all the little murmured words the lads were saying to him.

“I’m gonna fucking come,” Louis garbled. Feeling so dirty and so pretty and so important, Louis’ preened, and then he felt a small hand on his cock, pulling there lightly, and he came for the second time that evening. “ _Fuck_! Fuuuck….”

Being far too captivated by Louis’ sounds, Harry didn’t properly aim—just got in close to Louis’ face and pulled and pulled and pulled and watched his cock as it exploded across Louis’ chin and mouth and nose. Louis didn’t even blink as the long, slimy strings hit his face. He eagerly shot out his tongue to catch anything he could, and he seriously couldn’t put words to the feeling of elation he had running through his veins. It was only when he knew Harry was finished that he allowed himself to close his eyes.

When everything had settled and the moment passed, Louis’ eyes flittered open. His chin was coated in a sticky, fresh load of cum, and his stomach was a huge mess, some thick clumps here and there but mostly just a flat, shiny sheen of semen from where Louis had played with it.

“You look absolutely obscene,” Harry murmured. Unbelievably, he was still stroking himself.

Louis smiled beautifully. “Love it.”

Eventually, Harry let up and just sat there on the mattress with his legs crossed, catching his breath. One hand remained on Louis all the while. To keep him grounded. “Happy early birthday, love.”

Louis stretched like a cat, smiling with his eyes closed. “Happy birth-day to me,” he rasped.

“Christ,” Niall finally whispered, breaking his silence. “You’re all on a different fucking level.”

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning found everybody huddling against one another’s bodies for warmth, scattered about half-naked like a stag party gone too far. Harry was the first one to wake, unconsciously smacking his lips with his eyes still closed. His mouth was full of bad-tasting cotton, but his nose was full of the pretty smell Louis’ hair gave off, plus a completely opposite, gross odor similar to being in a locker room despite the fact that everyone had showered last night. (Together.) He strengthened his lithe body in a giant stretch against Louis’ back and made a deep, rumbling noise in his chest before shaking Louis awake.

Harry and Louis had an appointment to get to by noon, so they climbed over the other boys to amble to the shower. Despite showering literally hours ago, it’d make them feel better to take another one. The last time Louis relied on an evening shower to make it through the following day, he’d felt like shit. He wasn’t doing that again.

Afterward meticulously getting dressed, he and Harry quietly exited from separate areas of the hotel, bodies tingling and palms sweating in nervous excitement.

 

* * *

 

 

Everyone else woke up lazily, comfy. Zayn and Liam exchanged sweet, whispered pillow-talk while Niall flipped through random channels on the television wondering, _What happens now?_

Apparently, nothing much. Their shared morning was as dull as the winter sky outside. The increasing noise from traffic out there signaled that the day had begun for the world, as well, and Niall sat up and stretched.

“I don’t feel like doing a damn thing today,” he said, scooting himself out of bed to shower nonetheless. They’d stupidly not changed the sheets last night, so even though everyone had showered together last night, they literally went right back into the bed of sin to burrow in dirty sheets. (“All the cum got on the duvet, lads, and we switched that,” Louis had argued. He just didn’t want to change beds.)

“So don’t. We aren’t,” Zayn assured, putting a hand on Liam’s arm. “Since we won’t be flying back ‘til tonight.”

Niall nodded before bringing his hands up to his eyes, rubbing them to wake himself up. Inside the bathroom, he stared at himself in the mirror for a moment in consideration.

Yesterday, he was stressing over how things were going to be after everything went down, wondering if it would make things inevitably awkward, especially considering his sexual incompetence. He really needn’t worry, though. Things didn’t feel different at all. If anything, he felt _better_ , like he was more connected with the others...in some weird, convoluted way.

Niall had left the room door wide open while he washed off, so, moments later, Zayn walked in the room and cleared off the mirror’s steam before shuffling around for his razor.

 _“Oh, I just wanna show you off to all of my friends,”_ came Niall’s soft voice from the shower, half-heartedly singing.

Zayn’s face screwed up in incredulity as he lathered up shaving cream on his cheeks. He paused and turned his face to the shower curtain. “Are you really singing that right now?”

“Course,” was Niall’s easy reply. “I always sing in the shower.”

Zayn shook his head, leaned in close to the mirror, and began shaving his jaw and neck. “Yeah, but our own song?”

Niall’s reply was easy. “What else would I sing?”

He pulled back the shower curtain to show Zayn his fantastic bubble-beard and, touching his face, continued, _“Makin’ them drool down their chinny-chin-chins…”_

“Baby, be mine tonight,” Zayn sung into his razor.

“Mine tonight!” Zayn heard Liam from the other room.

“Baby, be mine tonight, _yeah_ ,” all three of them sung together.

Zayn nicked his chin for laughing, and Niall continued the song in the shower, probably dancing and fucking up his knee even more.

“You are this band’s biggest fan, Niall,” Zayn said after he wiped off his face with a towel.

“I am!” Niall yelled as Zayn left the room.

 

* * *

 

 

Later, Harry and Louis re-entered the hotel to quite the cozy scene: Niall playing guitar in the chair by the window while Zayn softly sang along, barely loud enough for anyone to hear. Liam was jotting lines in a notebook while drinking tea.

“How’d it go?” Liam looked up at Harry and Louis’ rosy faces after placing his cup on the nightstand to his side. “Zayn told us where you’d gone. I didn’t even know anything about it.”

“ _Liam_ ,” Zayn muttered. He elbowed Liam’s side.

Harry smiled. “Nah, it’s okay, mate. We just didn’t want to jinx anything or…” He shrugged. “…Get our hopes up.”

Everyone stared at Harry expectantly. Liam cleared his throat. “But…”

Harry’s smile widened. “ _But_ —yeah, it went well.”

Louis grinned alongside Harry, like they were sharing the happiest news in the world. (And for them, it really was.)

Niall finally stopped strumming his guitar and moved to the bed where Liam and Zayn were after gingerly putting it in its case. “So you pair are really thinking about going public, then?”

“…Not just thinking about it. We-we _are_ ,” Louis answered, his voice sounding soft and awe-struck. “We are. Next year. There’s a plan in place and everything.”

“ _Really_?” Zayn asked. His eyes shined.

Louis’ eyes could’ve been slits with how scrunched up his face was with glee, and he nodded.

Niall started the applause first, beaming back at them, their sheer joy _contagious_. Harry squeezed Louis’ hand tightly, staring at him with the fondest look on his face as the boys created a cheer. Louis mirrored Harry’s look, bouncing his weight on his feet before finally leading Harry to the bed to lounge there with everyone else.

“I can’t believe this,” Louis admitted, his heart still rapidly beating inside his chest. “This is so mad.”

“It’s been a long time coming,” Harry professed. “Man, I’m so bloody happy I can’t even put words to it right now.”

“We’re happy _for_ you, mate,” Zayn replied. “Congratulations. Really.”

“Aww, you two can be next!” Niall enthused suddenly, reaching out to scuff up Zayn’s hair. Zayn good-naturedly moved his head out of the way.

Liam was still jotting down lines in the small notebook resting on his lap. “Yeah, that’ll be the day,” he murmured in a far-off voice. “When that happens, we won’t have any more secrets to keep, yeah?”

The room was quiet for a beat, prompting Liam to look up. All five boys suddenly looked around at one another’s silent faces before loudly snorting in laughter, holding their stomachs as they fell backwards and sideways onto the bed, smiling as brightly as the sun.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's it, folks. It's been a long, fun journey writing this. I hope you liked it, but either way, tell me what your thoughts are. I love hearing from all of you, and I can usually draw some type of improvement from any kind of feedback--positive or maybe not so positive. 
> 
> Thanks for reading this monstrosity and for dealing with my inconsistent updates so patiently. Or, if you're new, for seeing this long ass story and deciding you want to check it out. 
> 
> I can't promise any future stories, at least not for a long, long while, but I swear if I do any other fics (either related to this series or not) they'll either be one-shots or be completely finished before positing. This WIP got quite out of hand! 
> 
> Love every one of you. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter: Establishing boundaries, more Zayn/Louis fun, Harry/Louis showing Liam/Zayn the kinkier side of their relationship Harry's been trying to keep under wraps, everyone getting nice and cozy with their arrangement! i.e. some of the dirtiest stuff I've ever written.
> 
> Thoughts and comments so far?


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